A Thousand is Never Enough
by azulfanatica
Summary: They'd shared a thousand glances before that fateful day out in the Everglades. Before they ever really met. In the years to come, they would share a thousand glances, a thousand touches, a thousand everything. Eventually, it would never be enough.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I can easily imagine Eric and Calleigh having a history all their own. This is actually the first story I started writing—ever— and it sort of took on a life of its own.

The beginning chapters all take place in the past, beginning with Eric's first day as a CSI. Eventually, I will pick up the "present-tense" portion of this story right after the events of "Stand Your Ground." Hopefully, I can showcase a different side to Eric and Calleigh's friendship and burgeoning romance.

Long-term project. Tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 1

The quick clicking of heels reverberated off the glass walls of the Miami Dade Crime Lab as Calleigh Duquesne made her way through its halls.

_It's good to be back_, Calleigh thought as she surveyed her colleagues hard at work in their respective labs.

Calleigh had spent the better part of last week in Quantico, Virginia at a joint ATF-FBI ballistics conference. She'd missed the controlled chaos of the Crime Lab, the serenity of her home-away-from-home downstairs in firearms.

The sudden call of her name interrupted her thoughts. "Cal—Cal, hey, wait up. I'm out on this one with you."

Calleigh turned around to face her cohort in…non-crime… "Hey, Tim."

They were opposites in almost every way, but somehow they made it work. Actually, they made a great team, balancing each other out in the right ways, Horatio always on hand if their playful banter got out of control. She had learnt to put aside his sarcasm and sometimes questionable work ethic, and he had come to actually appreciate her Southern sass and workaholic tendencies. They were really more like brother and sister than co-workers, but that only added to their capabilities in reading crime scenes and catching criminals. Calleigh sighed. There was a new guy coming on today.

"Earth to Calleigh!" Speedle waved his free hand in front of her face, the other clutching his kit.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm here. Just thinking about the call out. Horatio told me I'd be working with the new CSI today. What's up?"

"Well, H just called, and apparently our new CSI is already on the case—he's switching from underwater recovery—"

"—and Horatio thought this might be a good transition for him. Got it. So he's already on site?"

"Yup. And you're late, and we need to roll." Speed grinned impishly as they headed to the elevator.

"I'm not late. I just flew in, changed, and headed straight here. Thank you very much," she punctuated with her Southern accent.

Speed just laughed and said, "I figured." They both smiled—Calleigh Duquesne was never late.

* * *

In the Hummer on the way to their crime scene in the Glades, Speed and Calleigh went over the case. Teresa Franklin had been reported missing three days ago by her ex-husband; he had dropped by her townhouse after she failed to pick up their two year old son for the weekend, and found it ransacked. Early this morning her car was sighted abandoned on an off road in the Glades. The canine unit found her beaten and bruised body about a mile from the car—two bullets to the back, one to the back of the skull. The only thing they had to go on was a trail of footprints the first responding officer followed to the edge of the water. Then, nothing. Horatio seemed to think that the killer disposed of the gun in the endless swamp, hence the need for a man in the water.

Calleigh stopped reading aloud from the file and sighed to herself. She looked at Speed, "Have you met him yet?"

"Who?"

"The new guy."

"Nope." He paused, "You don't seem too excited about it though. You know it'll cut down on our workload, right? We've needed another CSI on board for a long time."

She laughed at his uncharacteristic enthusiasm. "No, I don't care either way; it's just always tough to change a team's dynamic."

"Well, if he's half as good as H thinks he'll be, then we'll be just fine." _Besides_, Speed thought, _Calleigh could get along with just about anyone_. Calleigh's head whipped to look at him as he suddenly burst out laughing. "Can we just pause and savor this moment," he snorted. "Because I don't know if we'll ever have another day where I'm the optimist and you're the pessimist."

She glared at him for a second before she rolled her eyes and just laughed, too. He was right, after all.

* * *

Calleigh slid lithely out of the Hummer as they finally made it to the scene. Speed's exit was decidedly less graceful than his partner's. As they approached Horatio and Detective Salas, Calleigh noted an MDPD underwater recovery boat circling an area about fifty yards south of them. Suddenly, a head popped out of the water, then a hand bearing a water-logged pistol. _Score! Something to work with._

Horatio and Yelina turned to update the CSIs on the newest developments so they could begin processing the scene, but something else grabbed Calleigh's attention. "That diver…" she trailed off.

A memory was tugging at the edges of her consciousness. She couldn't put her finger on what was bugging her—well, not bugging. _Water splashing, a thrill, passion._ It was a pleasant memory, but a vague one.

She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but somehow her soft exclamation reached the ears of her comrades. "You know our newest CSI, Miss Duquesne?" Horatio queried. He eyed her. She was acting a bit strange. As his eyes studied her, Calleigh's eyes remained glued to the water. He swam through the murky depths, still in full gear, toward the MDPD boat. He bobbed just for a few moments before he tugged out his mouthpiece and handed up the evidence he had recovered.

Calleigh snapped back to the present, to find three pairs of curious eyes on her. She blushed furiously, "Sorry, no, I just—that's our newbie?" That memory was there, still tugging. But she didn't know any of the department's divers, so she said, "I don't know him. I just had déjà vu. Sorry. Keep going."

Horatio began to wonder how his second in command would react to the new team member, seeing the—thoughtful?—look on her face. Then he silently berated himself: Calleigh was the consummate professional, and she would welcome him with that Southern charm of hers no matter what the circumstances.

As more officers gathered, he continued, but watched her closely. The blonde CSI would have fooled anyone less observant than Horatio Caine. But he could see the distraction, the wheels of her mind turning rapidly as she snuck glances toward the water. She was still watching the diver.

"I want to tear this area apart people, scour that car from headlight to tail light, find anything to go on. He probably has an accomplice, he'd need—"

"Eric." Calleigh breathed, and everyone stopped. She had no idea that she'd just interrupted her boss, or that five or six people now stood staring at her. All she saw were the lane lines, the water churning, bodies flying. All she heard was the gun shot, the crowd, the uproar of victory. The memories flooded her, and for a brief second, she closed her eyes and let a satisfied smile cross her lips.

Speed looked at Calleigh in alarm. Was this really his partner that had returned from Quantico? Horatio followed her now open eyes, coming to rest on the aforementioned diver-turned CSI.

"Calleigh, I thought you said you didn't know him?"

His words broke through her reverie and she stared at him in shock. _Where did I just go? In front of my colleagues, just lost myself in my memories? What do I say? _

"I—" she began. Then it hit her like a cannonball. _"I thought you said you didn't know him?"_ Her hand went to her forehead, the other to her hip. Breathe. Breathe. Her eyes flitted back to the water, where he was fast approaching dry land. Fast approaching her. And she couldn't say anything at all.

Horatio was at a loss. He'd known Calleigh for two years and never seen her act like this. She was totally and completely engrossed in watching the new CSI draw near the group. Tank and goggles off, he peeled back the top of his wetsuit with one hand, holding a water-filled evidence bag in the other.

_Things are about to get very interesting,_ Horatio thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

Eric felt very proud of himself at the moment. He woke up this morning nervous as hell to start his new job, but H came through, as always, and managed to find a way for him to ease into his new position at CSI. Eric's first task required him to utilize his best skill, and he managed to find the possible murder weapon in a kidnapping case not two hours into his first day. He already felt like he had made the right decision moving from underwater recovery to CSI. _Something more,_ he thought to himself.

As he came out of the water, evidence bag in hand, his thoughts were on the next steps. They needed to figure out if this was the weapon that killed Teresa Franklin; if not, he was back in the water. H raved about his ballistics expert, so Eric had faith that he would have answers quickly. In fact, Horatio's insistence that he had one of the finest teams in the country (including the "best shot on the East Coast" hiding in his firearms lab) was a deciding factor in Eric's lateral. Horatio Caine could be a very persistent person when he wanted something, and he had long ago decided that he wanted Eric on his team.

Pulling himself out of his internal reverie, Eric finally looked up at the group in front of him. His eyes first landed on his old friend, and new boss. "H. I come bearing gifts," he grinned. "Now, point me in the direction of your famous ballistics expert and we can get the ball rolling."

Something wasn't right. Horatio said nothing, just stood there smirking at Eric, eyebrows raised over a pair of very familiar sunglasses. Not to mention the awkward silence in the group. As if on cue, everyone turned toward a single individual.

* * *

_Damn you, Speed! _Calleigh hissed to herself as she was propelled forward by an elbow in the back. She stumbled toward him one, two little steps, eyes down. The inevitable bearing down upon her, Calleigh slowly raised her eyes to meet his, like she'd done a million times before, a million years ago. She couldn't utter a sound.

* * *

Eric froze. Evidence bag forgotten, hanging in mid-air, his cocky grin gradually faded into confusion, then shock. The tension in the air was palpable. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen next, and the three officers in the back of the group uncomfortably coughed, bade excuses, and backed away.

Still, no one moved. Before, where Eric only saw a curtain of stunning blonde hair, he now saw a pair of emerald green eyes which had haunted his dreams for the past decade of his life. He was dragged into their depths, couldn't escape, couldn't utter a sound.

Count on Lt. Caine to save the day. "Eric Delko, I assume you already know our ballistics expert, Miss Calleigh—"

"—Duquesne." He still hadn't ripped his gaze from hers, and she made no move to do so either.

Now Horatio really was curious, and perhaps concerned, about the changes about to take place on his team. Beside him, Yelina had no clue what to think, but watched amusedly as the events unfolded in front of her. She didn't mind watching, either, as a very fine looking Eric still stood with his wetsuit unzipped, dripping water all over the place. Speedle remained behind Calleigh, a little on edge that someone could make Calleigh act that way, a little on edge that it was a someone like this Eric guy, dripping water all over the place, but mostly highly entertained at the whole situation.

Eric spoke first, "Hey, Cal." Natural. Like he'd known her all his life. _Idiot! Did you seriously just call her Cal?! You barely KNOW this woman, you can't just go calling her something like Cal!_

The thing was, it did feel like he'd known her all his life. It always had. He watched carefully for her reaction, and was surprised at the brilliant smile that lit her features. Content, surprised, and a little hesitant, but brilliant.

"Hey Eric," she said softly, tilting her head a little to the side. "I knew I recognized you."

That set him back on his heels, face contorting into a look of confusion. "How? I mean, all my gear, I was in the water…" he trailed off.

She just shrugged her shoulders and smiled even brighter, this time, a knowing smile. "You were in the water."

Eric still looked confused, so Calleigh elaborated, "I've seen you race a thousand times, Eric. No one swims like you, moves in the water like you. No one. "

He got it. He got it, and she did, and they shared the same look they had shared a thousand times. Those races, he always knew she was there. He sought out her gaze a thousand times as he climbed out of the pool. She craved that momentary glance, lingering look a thousand times.

The look that kept him up at night and left her distracted during the day. They'd spoken only briefly, had met only occasionally, but for some reason, they found a friendship, a deep connection in those small moments after each race. It seemed a lifetime ago.

No one around them existed. _Horatio, who?_ For a few seconds both Calleigh and Eric simply reveled in the happiness of a thousand lost memories.

And suddenly they were grinning ridiculously at one another, floodgates open wide.

"I guess you have, haven't you?" Eric started.

"Maybe a thousand and one." Calleigh ducked her head, adding a little more softly, "I watched you at the trials. You were amazing."

Eric didn't know what to say. She had followed his career? Then again, he had tried to keep tabs on her as well. "Too little, too late."

"Oh, like hell. You had more heart than any other guy there. That race was incredible to watch."

"Calleigh I lost!"

"Did you really?" She smiled again, testing him, already knowing the answer. When he didn't respond, she simply said, "You accomplished what you went there to do. And now, you're here. Which is right, but you're going to have to fill me in on the details in between."

Eric just gaped at her. They _didn't know each other_. But they did. He knew her favorite colors, how she liked to wear her hair, what she was afraid of. And she knew he hadn't lost anything in that race, she knew the reasons he ended up at MDPD fishing cars out of canals, and she knew why he needed more than that. Eric felt a growing warmth in his chest, as his smile broadened, inextricably and simultaneously cocky and shy, "I guess we're working together now."

"I guess so."

At this point, Horatio expected one or both of them to turn back to the (completely ignored) group. Neither did. They just stood there grinning at each other like they just found the pot at the end of the rainbow. He felt like a voyeur. _This is definitely going to be interesting._

Before he had a chance to break up the grin-fest in front of him, Speedle chimed in, "Ok, what the hell is going on here?"

Eric and Calleigh stepped back from each other like they'd been burned, broke eye contact, but quickly regained their composure. Horatio was actually quite impressed.

Speed went on, "How do you two know each other?"

They looked at each other, that knowing look that would one day be famous in the Miami Dade Crime Lab, and laughed. In unison, they said, "Derek."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3_

* * *

_

_They looked at each other, that knowing look that would one day be famous in the Miami Dade Crime Lab, and laughed. In unison, they said, "Derek."_

* * *

"You have a brother named Derek, do you not, Miss Duquesne?" Horatio queried intuitively. He did, after all, have access to the team's personnel files.

Calleigh smiled brightly, "Yes, I do. He lives in Atlanta with his wife."

"They got married?" Eric blurted. "Finally! It only took him—how many years?"

"Six," Calleigh laughed. "That's the wedding I told you about a few months ago," she explained to Horatio. Calleigh "Never-Takes-Time-Off" Duquesne had baffled the lab several months ago by requesting an entire week's vacation time. Until now, Lt. Caine was the only one who knew where she'd gone: Georgia, of all places.

She turned back to Eric. "I know Der's been busy, but when did y'all last talk? He and Leah were engaged for over a year."

Eric ducked his head. "It's been longer than that…things got crazy, you know?" Derek graduated and started working for a big time brokerage firm in New Orleans, then took off to Atlanta to start his own business. Eric was just as busy swimming, then working for MDPD. Somewhere along the way, they just lost touch.

"Yeah," Calleigh said softly, and another smile-fest ensued.

Speedle stood watching the entire exchange, confused as hell. _If I didn't know any better…_ he shook the thought before he let it go too far. "I'm still lost. How do you two know each other?"

For a second time, Eric and Calleigh shook themselves out of their own world and realized other people were standing around them.

"Oh, I'm sorry man," Eric came forward with his hand outstretched. Eric Delko." They shook hands. _Great, first day on the job and I'm already making an idiot out of myself. Snap out of it, Delko!_ He looked at the woman standing next to him, wondering how to explain their connection when he didn't even understand it.

"Calleigh and I don't…really…know each other," he sighed. Three skeptical faces stared back at him. Try again. "I swam for University of Miami, and we competed against LSU—"

"—Where my brother Derek swam. I went to all his meets," Calleigh helped explain.

"And your paths crossed," Yelina supplied.

Eric and Calleigh looked at each other nervously before Calleigh responded, "Well, Eric and Derek's did at least."

"We were rivals, but we ended up becoming friends and keeping in touch," Eric said.

Speedle jumped in again, his curiosity not to be assuaged. "And you two?"

Calleigh's turn to answer. "We only talked, what," she asked Eric, "a handful of times?"

Something palpable passed between them at that moment, upon hearing the reality of their situation uttered out loud. Two people, who had spoken _maybe_ a dozen words to each other over the last ten years, stood there talking like old friends.

In swimming, a race comes down to a matter of one-hundredth of a second. A touch on the wall, hopes fulfilled or shattered in one-hundredth of a second. For Eric and Calleigh, that one look after each race for three long years, the one that sometimes lasted only a hundredth of a second, changed their lives forever.

They couldn't begin to explain the significance of the friendship they'd formed without words. It was unorthodox, and a little crazy, but it ran deep.

Eric smiled tightly and nodded, running his hand over the back of his head. _Okay, time to change the subject._ "Our stories can wait," he held up the evidence bag still clutched in his hand, "but this case can't. I'm the new guy—how 'bout I treat everyone to a round after work? Get to know the team?" he said, looking at the unfamiliar faces of his new colleagues.

"Good call, son," Frank stepped forward. "Detective Frank Tripp, homicide." He liked this kid, especially if he could win over Calleigh so quickly. _Never get on the wrong side of that woman_, Frank shuddered. He'd seen what she was capable of. _Besides, he's earned Horatio's respect. Called him a hard worker. We could use some more of that around here_, he thought, looking at Speedle with more amusement than animosity.

"Detective Yelina Salas, mucho gusto."

"Igualmente," Eric said. They shook hands, and Yelina stepped back (and a little closer) to Horatio. Eric smiled inwardly and wondered if she even realized she did it. _Go Big H_, he thought.

"Okay," Horatio took charge. "Eric, take the gun back to the lab with Calleigh," he paused in thought (or just for effect, jacket flapping dramatically in the wind). "She can show you the ropes. Speed, you're with me."

Eric shook everyone's hands one last time before he took off with Calleigh.

"Let me just grab my gear," he said, and they made their way over to the divers' truck. He stripped off his wetsuit and yanked on a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, grabbing a towel to scrub his face and dry his hair. The action seemed so familiar to Calleigh that she laughed.

"What," Eric asked, a little self-conscious.

"Nothin'," Calleigh answered, laughing. "Nothin' at all. Life is just bizarre." She gave Eric a bright smile, a very contagious smile.

He was grinning, too, when he stated confidently, "Good bizarre." Calleigh's smile only widened.

One long look between them later, he said, "Let's go," and they headed toward the Hummer in companionable silence.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I completely ignore Megan's existence, and Ray dies sooner in my story than he did on the show (not a major--or minor--factor in the story).

Just for point of reference, I've roughly based my timeline on the flashback in ep.8x01-- therefore, Eric probably received his badge in 1997 or 1998 and joined underwater recovery. Season 1 began in 2002, and I wanted him on the team for a couple years before the pilot ep., so this story begins in 2000. Voila! I am ignoring, obviously, the parts of the S.8 flashback where Calleigh and Eric met.

Also, personal disclaimer: I know very little about the world of swimming and even less about motorcycles. Please forgive any mistakes.

Chapter 4

* * *

Surprisingly, Calleigh and Eric fell into an easy working rhythm. Both feared that things might turn awkward between them, but the exact opposite occurred. The electricity they felt every time their eyes connected persisted, but it shocked them a little less each time.

Calleigh gave Eric the grand tour of the Crime Lab: she showed him where he would be working, introduced him to the rest of the lab rats, took him down to autopsy, tipped him off to the secrets of the break room refrigerator (don't touch Horatio's potato salad). She finally capped it off with the crowning jewel (in her opinion): the Firearms Lab.

Meanwhile, they also managed to tie up the Teresa Franklin murder. Teresa's current boyfriend, Roger Brooks, had pissed off the wrong people. She died to pay his debt, her little boy lost his mother, and Roger had to live with that for the rest of his life.

Horatio discreetly observed Eric from his office, noting with satisfaction that he conducted himself professionally, especially given the emotional nature of his first case as a CSI. Eric felt comfortable in the water, and surrounded by lab equipment; now, Horatio saw that he could handle the human aspect of the job as well.

He stepped out of his office and headed toward Calleigh, Speedle, and Eric, who stood chatting in the hallway. "I seem to remember," Horatio said to the trio, "a certain someone promising a round of drinks after shift."

"That I did," Eric remarked. "You guys pick the place."

"What about Del Toro's, down the street?" Calleigh proposed.

"Sounds good to me," Speedle said.

"Oh, and Alexx can't come—Jamie's got a ballet recital tonight," she added.

"I will find Tripp and Yelina," Horatio stated, "and we'll meet you guys there in a little while."

"I've got some paperwork to finish up before I can head out," Calleigh said apologetically to Speed and Eric. "I'll have to meet you there, too."

"Well," Tim slapped Eric on the shoulder and gave him a little shake, "looks like it's just the two of us."

Eric chuckled and followed Speedle toward the elevator. Calleigh and Horatio headed their separate ways, but as the elevator doors were closing Eric heard Calleigh holler over her shoulder at Speed, "And at least _try_ to get a good table this time!"

The doors closed, Speed muttering to himself, "One lousy time. You can't win with her," and grumbling something else under his breath that Eric couldn't hear.

Eric didn't quite know what to think about Tim Speedle. Calleigh gave him the low-down on everyone at the lab today, including Tim. They were pretty tight, but she freely admitted that there was still a lot about the man she didn't know. He was moody and mysterious, liked a good joke and a good drink, and considered working at CSI a job, not a passion.

The doors opened again and Eric followed Speedle into the main lobby and then out the front doors. "Do you know where we're going?" Tim asked the newest member of their team.

"Yeah, I've been there before. Actually, I think I'll just walk from here—it's not worth trying to find a parking space."

Eric had inadvertently followed Speed to the front parking lot as they spoke. "Dude," Speed gestured in front of him, "that's why you need to get a _bike_. Hell of a lot less trouble."

Delko let out a long, appreciative whistle for the work of art in front of him. He walked around it, taking it all in. "She's gorgeous," he said to no one in particular.

_Score one for the new guy. _"You ride?"

"Not as much as I like. I helped my dad fix up old cars as a kid—got turned on to motorcycles in high school," Eric said. "Couldn't ride in college—I'd lose my scholarships if I crashed. But God…" He ran his hand over the chrome handlebars, "She's beautiful."

Speed grinned like a proud papa. "1976 Harley Davidson Ironhead Short Chop. Ninety percent original parts—"

"—you've fixed the gearshift lever shaft. That's some nice work." Eric was still staring at the bike, and Speed was staring at Eric.

_Damn. Score two for the new guy. He's not half bad._ "Yeah," he cleared his voice, "you know, Delko—if you survive your first week, I might just show you my pride and glory."

Eric raised his eyebrows in question. "1941 Harley 45" Flathead." Speed crossed his arms and smirked at Eric's gaping expression. "Belonged to my grandfather. I keep it in a climate-controlled garage most of the time."

"I bet. Humidity's a bitch."

"No kidding." They both admired the chopper for a little longer before Speed spoke up again. "You know what, somebody's probably going to have to dump my ass at home tonight, anyway. I'll just walk with you."

Eric laughed, taking one last glance at the bike before they left for Del Toro's. "Does that happen often?"

Speed considered the question, and then answered, "Yes, if you ask Calleigh. But don't ask Calleigh…honestly, we don't get a chance to let loose that often. I like to think of it as seizing opportunities," he quipped.

Several hours later, Calleigh, Speedle, and Delko sat around a half-empty table nursing the last of their drinks for the night. Tripp, Yelina, and Horatio had long since departed.

Eric and Calleigh spent half the night regaling the group with stories about each other that they could only have known through Derek.

FLASHBACK

"Wait, wait, wait," Calleigh stopped Eric mid-sentence. "How on earth did you know that?"

Speedle was practically rolling on the floor with laughter. He rarely got to hear stories of a young, rabble-rousing Calleigh. Tripp and Horatio looked fit to burst as well, and Yelina had tears streaming down her face.

"My sophomore year. I had just finished my 200m backstroke finals—"

"You remember it that clearly, do you?" Calleigh's eyes narrowed as she glared at Eric.

Frank shushed her. "Let the boy tell his story."

"Thank you, Frank," Eric said, and Frank nodded. "Anyway, my family wasn't there—I think Isa was in labor, can't remember now—but your dad came up to me—"

"You know what? I don't want to know," Calleigh fumed. "However he told you, he is _so_ dead."

"Yeah, I don't suppose you'd miss this time," Speed taunted.

The entire group exploded in laughter.

Calleigh's face turned beet red. "I _told _you, it was an accident! I was seven, for God's sake."

"You _shot_ your childhood crush, Cal!"

"Shut it, Delko. Payback's a bitch."

Eric swallowed the lump in his throat, hard. Over the years, he'd shared a lot of phone calls and pointless stories with Derek Duquesne. In fact, Derek had been there for quite a few of his misadventures during college. Eric had no idea what kind of wild tales he could have told his sister about him; he just hoped it didn't cost him his job, his first day _on_ the job.

Calleigh practically hummed with satisfaction at the terrified look that swept over Eric's face. "Now, should I start with you engaging in a police chase at the ripe age of nine, or with that particularly eventful night at Gulf Shores your senior year of high school?"

Eric felt like crawling under the table. "He didn't. You wouldn't!"

Calleigh crowed with delight. "You know, no self-respecting young man should know what branty-divin' is," she lectured in her genteel way.

Speed, Tripp, and Horatio shook with uncontrolled laughter. "Actually," Frank chuckled, "I think all self-respecting young men should know what branty-divin' is." Yelina slapped him hard on the shoulder, which just made him laugh harder.

Horatio sat back and took in the entire scene, absolutely content for the first time in a long time, happy to see Yelina laugh, happy that Delko meshed so well with the team…just happy.

Speedle spoke up, "I want to hear about this police chase…"

"Absolutely not," Eric refused, then added with a wink, "my juvenile record is sealed."

"We can unseal them," Yelina interrupted, "Besides, I want to hear about your swimming. Horatio mentioned you're quite good."

"That's an understatement," Calleigh said under her breath, glancing at Eric with a small smile. He kicked her under the table. "What? It's the truth!"

"Eric," Horatio said, "played baseball and swam for U of M. He competed in the Olympic trials in Atlanta in '96…and lost by three-tenths of a second."

Eric blushed, hoping that the dark atmosphere would cover his embarrassment. He considered swimming a passion more than a talent, and he never got used to the attention he received for his achievements.

Calleigh added, "He retired the next year, but not until he swam—and placed second—in Worlds."

"Damn, boy," Frank said, "How the hell'd you wind up in underwater recovery?"

Five inquiring pairs of eyes faced him. "Injured my back. And I needed a change, I guess." He left it at that.

END FLASHBACK

Eric thought about that conversation. Most people wouldn't understand why he chose to retire. They wouldn't understand how he ended up hauling tin in the backwaters of Miami. Horatio did, and he encouraged Eric to get his badge; he found a way for Eric to use his talents for something bigger than himself, something more than the thrill and satisfaction of a roaring crowd. That changed his life.

This team was different. They were police officers, and they all had a reason for doing what they did. So they understood that he had his, too. No questions asked.

"Hey, I'm going to the restroom before we head out," Eric said to his companions as he climbed off his bar stool.

"'Kay," Calleigh said.

Speed watched Eric disappear at the back of the bar before he spoke. "Alright, what is going on with you two?"

Calleigh looked at him in shock. "Don't give me that look, Cal."

"Tim, I honestly don't know what you're talking about," she defended sincerely.

"I've _never _seen you interact with someone that way," Speed clarified, "or look at someone that way."

_Ahh. That,_ Calleigh thought_. There is that._

She sat still for a moment too long, and Speed cried, "See! I'm right!" Calleigh rolled her eyes. "How can two people who have never rightfully _spoken_ to each other, know each other like you two do?" He was mystified. And a little drunk. Or a lot drunk.

"It's complicated, Tim. And I doubt you'd remember in the morning if I tried to explain, which I can't." She was tired, and luckily she spied Eric headed back to the table.

"C'mon, big fella, we're movin' out," she said as Eric retrieved his credit card from the bar. He helped her steady Speedle on his feet and they called him a cab. Speed safely taken care of, they walked back to their cars at MDPD.

They spent the first few minutes of their trek in silence, until Eric spoke softly, "You know, Calleigh—" _Where was I going with this, again?_

She smiled. "What?"

He laughed. "The last I heard from Derek, you were still in New Orleans. You can't believe how surprised I was to see you this morning."

"Oh, I think I can," Calleigh giggled. She peered over at him, really taking him in for the first time since this morning. It had been a crazy day, and an even crazier evening with the team at Del Toro's. This was the first really calm moment they had together all day.

"I'm glad it's you," she said quietly.

"What?" Eric asked, not quite catching her drift.

"I'm glad you're the one joining the team," Calleigh explained. "Tim, Horatio, and I—we work like clockwork sometimes. And…Good Lord if Horatio didn't know we would be instant friends," she cracked up. "He couldn't have picked a better person for the job."

Eric bit his lip, trying to hide his wide grin. It broke free anyway. "I'm glad you feel that way," he said, smiling.

They arrived at Calleigh's car. "This is me."

"Well, Miss Duquesne," Eric said playfully, "thank you for a wonderful first day."

"You're welcome, Mr. Delko," she quipped back. "I'll see you tomorrow…well, later today."

"See you then," Eric said with a smile and headed to his truck a few rows down.

He was nearly there when he heard Calleigh call after him. "Hey, Delko!" He turned around. "Be careful when you open your kit tomorrow…" she said with a devilish grin.

_Oh Lord_, Eric thought_, what have I gotten myself into?_ He watched Calleigh tear out of the parking garage. _Well, it could be worse, _he chuckled to himself.

Eric thought about the electricity that ran between him and Calleigh, glad that it seemed to take on a more platonic feel than a romantic one. She was a firecracker. And _way _more than he could handle.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: This takes place during ep.2x03, "Hard Time."

Chapter 5

* * *

Horatio entered the condo and joined Alexx at the victim's side. As Calleigh approached behind him, he said, "By the way, I thought Eric had the call-out."

Eric and Calleigh had settled into a solid friendship. Calleigh forgave Eric when he was being a complete idiot, and Eric granted Calleigh some leeway when her stubborn side kicked in. Speed was the third piece to the puzzle. Together, the three of them worked as a (mostly) seamless team. They had each others' backs.

Calleigh pursed her lips quietly behind her boss. "He got caught in traffic."

"Just him?" His gentle sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by either Calleigh or Alexx.

"Look at this place." Detective John Hagen joined the group. "They should fire their decorator."

"It's South Beach. It could have been the way they wanted it. Mmm. I smell decomp." Calleigh stepped away to begin processing the scene, feeling more than seeing Hagen's eyes follow her path.

"Yeah, neighbor thought it was from the pipes till a couple hundred maggots fell on his head. First officer pronounced 0800," Hagen informed, showing Horatio the victim's wallet. "We got ten dollars, credit cards. ID says her name's Peg Donovan, but the condo owner says this unit's vacant."

The morning progressed slowly as the team tried to unravel the mystery at hand. Not only was their DB _not _dead, but they had a case where the victim suffered two rare and brutal attacks in her lifetime. That couldn't be coincidence.

Calleigh hurried down the hall, evidence in hand, when she heard the elevator ding and saw a very frazzled Eric Delko rush through the doors, checking his watch as he went.

"Hey, Calleigh."

"Hey."

"Hey, listen, thanks for taking that DB call-out at that condo. I really appreciate it."

"Sure."

"You know how traffic's a bitch getting over to Biscayne."

That sounded lame even to Eric's ears."Yeah," Calleigh responded tight-lipped as they entered the evidence room. "People say."

"Everything go okay?"

"Uh, let's see. We may have a timeline off some wood, got some shoe prints, possible DNA off of Kleenex," she set the evidence bags on the glass table. "Oh, and the dead girl wasn't dead."

"What?" Eric's eyebrows shot toward the ceiling.

"No, she was hanging on by a thread."

"You're kidding," he said. Silence. He tried again. "Where is she?"

"Over at Grace Memorial. By the grace of God, I might add."

_Shit, shit, shit,_ Eric yelled at himself as he quietly turned to leave the evidence locker. Calleigh obviously had little to say to him about the matter. _I've got to fix this, somehow._

In the back of his mind, Eric knew he should tell Calleigh the real reason for his tardiness. But at the moment, talking to Eric seemed to be the last thing Calleigh Duquesne wanted to do._ I will,_ he thought¸ _just not now._

* * *

Later, after a quick lunch sitting in front of his locker downstairs, Eric decided to track down Speed to get an update. He walked in to Trace right as Speed hung Peg Donovan's white cotton bra on the wire grill.

"Drying out Peg's clothes?" he asked.

"Well, I can't process the evidence unless I do. Weren't you supposed to be in court on that quadruple?"

_Yeah, until I started royally screwing up everything in my life. "_A continuance," he said. Speed didn't need to know that the prosecutor replaced Eric at the last minute with another expert witness, because he couldn't "rely on CSI Delko" to be fully present. _I miss a couple phone calls and one lousy meeting…_

Eric pushed the acrimonious thoughts aside. At least he could do something to help close _this_ case. "I looked up the file on Peg Donovan's rape case from nine years ago. And this Shaw—he didn't just rape her. He broke both of her arms, then she crawled out to the motel hall where the maid found her, her eye hanging out of its socket."

"A tough girl."

"Yeah. You know I flaked out on the crime scene, right?"

"Yeah, but, you know, you called, and Calleigh covered, so it worked out."

"Yeah, but if Calleigh hadn't covered, and it's up to me, I mean, she might have died."

"Then I guess it's a good thing it wasn't up to you. I mean, what do you want me to say? Every day is like a surprise party with you." Speed handed Eric a shirt to hang on the wire. "Here. So, is Calleigh mad at you?"

"I don't know. I can't tell."

"Well, then, she's probably mad at you."

Eric glared at his friend. _Of course Speed's right, you idiot. "Every day is like a surprise party with you." If he felt that way, Calleigh certainly did. She was just better at hiding it._

* * *

The shift ended late. As he entered the locker room, Eric ran a tired hand over his head and dug his fingers into the base of his neck to ease the knots there. He spotted Calleigh rummaging in her locker, three away from his own.

"Looks like Mason Shaw won't be getting out any time soon." Calleigh looked up to see Eric standing next to her.

"Yeah."

"Calleigh," Eric shoved his hands in his pockets. "I know I said I was sorry about this morning already. But I need—I want to make sure we're okay."

She stared at him for a moment with her discerning green eyes. Something nudged Calleigh's consciousness, sending soft warning bells off in the back of her mind. She took the bells as a sign to say what she'd wanted to say to her colleague all day.

"Eric, we're fine personally. But, professionally? You've been showing up late to crime scenes, missing phone calls, overlooking evidence. If you don't get it together, you're gonna lose your job."

Eric quelled his initial feeling of anger; Calleigh had every right to react this way. She was the acting assistant day-shift supervisor, and a close friend. _It's not her fault that I've been keeping all this from her._

"I'm only saying this because I care about you, you know that."

Eric shuffled his feet and stared at the ground for a second before meeting Calleigh's eyes. "I _do_ know that. And that's why—that's why…" He couldn't finish. Eric felt the lump rise in his throat, and he couldn't stop the tears from forming in his eyes.

_Okay_, Calleigh thought, seeing the moisture brimming in Eric's eyes. _Maybe I misinterpreted those warning bells._ She let her eyes wander from his eyes, over his slumped shoulders, down to the hands shoved deep into his pockets. She raked her gaze up once more to his face, noticing for the first time the deep circles under his bloodshot eyes. He looked exhausted, and…defeated. _There's more to this story… I just haven't been paying attention. What the hell kind of CSI am I? _She berated herself for not being more perceptive, sooner.

"Eric?"

He cleared his throat in an effort to speak without his voice cracking. Dead give away. "Cal, do you, uh, do you think we could grab some dinner?"

"Sure, I'll drive."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

Marisol had cancer. _Marisol_. Beautiful, energetic, enigmatic Marisol. Eric had known for three months and hadn't said a word to her, or to anyone for that matter. Calleigh looked back over the last few months and saw everything in a different light. Things had seemed…sadder… at the Delko residence lately.

Eric had asked Calleigh and Speedle to come over to his parents' house the first Sunday after he became a CSI. Every week or two since then, she and Speed joined Eric for dinner at his parents'. They never noticed the subtle changes. All those looks between family members, all the hushed conversations, Marisol looking more tired than usual, sitting out more dances—nobody said _anything_.

"Cal? Are you angry I didn't tell you sooner?"

_Angry?_ "No, Eric. I'm just, I'm in shock. And I feel like a complete jerk."

Calleigh knew why she'd missed the changes in Eric and his family. John Hagen took up more and more of her time, recently. Hagen had a possessive streak which didn't totally offend her, but she had subconsciously pulled away from her best friend as a result of it. Pulled away when he needed her most. She mentally kicked herself.

"Why in the world would you feel guilty? It's not your fault Mari's sick."

"I know that, Eric. But I've been so wrapped up in my own damn problems lately that I never even noticed the strain you've been under. When you started slipping, I doubted you instead of asking why; I never offered help. I'm supposed to be your best friend!"

Eric sighed and took Calleigh's tiny hand in his larger one. They sat in a small booth at a café they frequented near Eric's townhouse. Through the dim light, Eric could see Calleigh beating herself up for being so selfish. He laughed, inwardly. _Funny, she's probably the least selfish person I know._

"Calleigh, I could have told you what was going on. I chose not to. You've had enough on your plate these days."

"Enough on my plate! Eric, your sister has cancer. It doesn't matter what's going on in my life, you should be able to come to me when you need to," she said firmly.

Eric squeezed her hand, "I'm coming to you now."

His one statement let Calleigh know that they were okay. He trusted her with his life, and he could trust her to help him through this. With one small squeeze of the hand, Eric told Calleigh that he needed her.

"Okay." She released Eric's hand, and he could see 'down-to-business' Calleigh replace 'guilty' Calleigh. "What do we do now?"

Eric smiled at her words. _We._ She couldn't know how much her support meant to him right now. "Well, Clara and Isa have the kids to worry about. Gabi just moved to Ft. Lauderdale, and my parents are getting to the point where taking care of Marisol full time is a little too much for them."

"Which leaves you."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I've been trying to handle all my shifts _and_ caring for Mari, but I don't think I can do that anymore. I'm putting the team at risk, making mistakes because I'm tired."

"Well, I can handle Horatio if you want. You don't have to tell him. And we can arrange for some flexibility with your hours, so that you still receive a full paycheck."

"That…would be incredible, Calleigh. That would help a lot." He didn't know what to say. Count on Calleigh to jump in and start coming up with workable solutions.

"And," she captured his chocolate brown orbs so she knew he paid attention, "if it's okay with Marisol, maybe I could help out a little when I'm off-duty."

Now he was truly taken aback. "Cal, you don't have to do that. Please, I'm not looking for handouts—"

"Nonsense. I want to. Y'all need all the help you can get right now. Let me do this, Eric."

He reached over and enveloped her in a tight hug. "Thank you, Calleigh," he whispered in her ear, unable to say more as the lump reformed in his throat.

* * *

A/N: Just to avoid confusion, this is the first time Marisol is diagnosed. In S.4, Eric talks about her being in remission and the cancer coming back. I wanted to show what happened the first time around.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Set around ep.2x05, "The Best Defense." A little drama to spice things up.

Chapter 7

* * *

"Calleigh!" The ballistics expert turned her head and saw Det. Hagen trot a few steps to catch up with her.

"Hey, John."

"Where're you headed?" he asked.

Indicating the file in her hand, she answered, "Back to firearms. Just got the report back from Trace about the substance we found on the handle."

They entered the ballistics lab and Hagen sat on a counter to watch Calleigh work. "You know, I called you three times earlier. You missed lunch."

Calleigh closed her eyes and sighed inwardly. _Lunch. I totally forgot._ "John, I'm sorry, I completely forgot."

"Well, I figured with your old man showing up today and everything, you were a little distracted."

That was an understatement. Kenwall Duquesne was the least of her distractions today, though. Marisol called Calleigh right before lunch; she had a doctor's appointment in an hour and Eric was due in court, on top of the two ongoing cases he was juggling. She'd turned off her phone at the hospital and hadn't checked her messages yet.

"The thing is," John stood up, "I ran into your dad in the lobby earlier, and he was looking for you, too. Receptionist said you were off the clock. Said, if it was an emergency to contact you at Miami General."

"Yeah, um, I went to visit a friend. That's all."

"Calleigh—"

"John, I don't want to talk about it, okay?" she snapped. _Did he wake up this morning asking, "How can I press her effing buttons today?"_

He took a step back from her. "Listen, I really need to process this revolver."

"Okay, I can take a hint. I'll catch you later, then." Hagen exited the firearms lab and Calleigh took a deep breath before she set up her station and began firing rounds.

* * *

This day was getting worse and worse by the minute. Eric returned from court only to process the car in her father's case, turning up some rather interesting results. More interesting than the toolmark he found in the seatbelt was the little tidbit he told her about Hagen asking him to ignore it. Calleigh was on the warpath.

"Hey John!"

"Hey," Det. Hagen said, excusing himself from the two officers next to him.

"I just wanted to ask you something face to face. Did you overlook evidence with regard to the seatbelt?"

"I didn't think it was important."

"A tool mark on the accused girl's seatbelt in this case and it's not important?" Calleigh asked incredulously.

"If it doesn't establish a specific window of time, then—"

"A case is the totality of evidence, and you know that!"

"Come on. That's CSI talk… I'm a cop. I got an eyewitness and a signed confession, and an old man blowing my whole case apart to pull himself up out of the bottle."

Calleigh just stared, unbelieving. "I didn't mean that," Hagen backtracked.

"I think you did. And you know what? As we speak that old man may be trying to save the life of an innocent woman. You know what? I don't think Friday night's gonna work."

John huffed in frustration. "Yeah, well I couldn't agree more," he called as Calleigh walked away.

* * *

"Duquesne," Calleigh answered her phone softly.

"Cal, hey it's Eric. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Why d'you ask?"

"Well, I dropped by your place on my way home from Mari's. She made you a cake," he said. "Anyway, your car wasn't there, so I used my key to let myself in."

"You've done that a million times, Eric. What's the problem?"

He hesitated, not sure how to explain everything. "Well… um, when I got inside I noticed the lamp on in your living room."

_That's odd. I know I turned all the lights off this morning, _Calleigh thought.

"I heard a noise and pulled my gun...when I got around the corner, it was John Hagen."

"What?" Calleigh exclaimed.

"Calleigh, I'm sorry. If I knew you guys had plans tonight I never would have intruded. It's just, well, when he saw me he kind of freaked."

"What?" Calleigh repeated.

"Before I knew what was going on, I was eating fist."

"Eric," she interrupted him urgently, "did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Cal, nothing to worry about… Calleigh, Hagen's got a temper. He accused me of all sorts of shit, asked why the hell I had a key to your place. I needed to tell you what happened, but more than that, I wanted you to know what you're dealing with here."

Eric feared he said too much. He had no right to offer Calleigh relationship advice, but his face was currently a testament to what John Hagen was capable of doing. _What's to stop him from taking his anger out on Calleigh?_ Eric thought.

"Eric," Calleigh whispered so quietly he could barely hear her over the phone. "Eric, we didn't have plans tonight. And, and John doesn't have a key to my house."

Eric's heart raced. "You mean—"

"He had to have broken in. That's the only way. You know I don't keep a spare key. Eric, I broke up with him this afternoon."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at my dad's."

"Can you stay there tonight?"

She sighed, "I was plannin' on it anyway. He's a little…off the wagon…right now."

_Damn it. First she takes on Marisol, now she's dealing with Hagen and her father._ "Is there anything I can do, Cal?"

Calleigh knew that tone of voice, and knew of only one reason he could have for rushing to get off the phone. "Eric, I know what you're thinking, but don't. It'll only cause trouble."

"Hagen breaks into your house, attacks me, threatens my life—Calleigh he's dangerous! I don't want to drag your personal life all over MDPD, but at the very least H needs to know that Hagen's a liability in the field. He can take it from there."

Calleigh relented. He had a point. "Okay, at least let me talk to Horatio myself tomorrow. Or we can do it together. Just promise me you won't do anything stupid tonight, alright?"

Eric heaved a sigh. "Fine, Cal. But if he keeps this up, I don't know what I can promise you."

"That's fair… are you still going over to Speed's tonight?"

"Umm, actually, I'm just gonna head home. At this point my face would probably raise too many questions," he chuckled.

"Is it that bad?" Calleigh grimaced.

"Nothing that won't heal. Don't worry your pretty little head about it," he grinned. "Listen, uh, are you good with your dad tonight? Because—"

"He's out for the night. Don't worry your pretty little head about," she joked lightheartedly.

"Okay. See you tomorrow, Cal. Call me if you need anything."

"'kay. See you tomorrow."

_At least that conversation ended on a good note_, Eric mulled to himself. He'd been terrified to call Calleigh; they were best friends and she opened up to him more than anyone else, even Speedle, but with everything happening at once, it seemed like they were crossing personal boundaries a lot more frequently these days.

_She didn't shut me out, though_, he thought_, and she didn't give me the verbal whiplash I was expecting. Then again, since when does she give in _that_ easily?_ Eric vowed to keep a close eye on his best friend, knowing things probably affected her more than she let on.

* * *

The next day a very tired-looking Calleigh entered the break room, attempting—and failing—to hide an epic yawn with the back of her hand.

Speedle sat on the couch, heavy boots propped lazily on the coffee table, perusing the morning paper. When he heard Calleigh walk through the door, he peered over the top at his unusually disheveled colleague.

"Whoa, Cal. How you doin' champ?"

"Shut it, Speedle," Calleigh nearly growled. "Not before my coffee. Why the hell are you here so early anyway?"

Speed knew better than to mess with Calleigh Duquesne before her daily dose of caffeine, especially on those rare occasions when she seemed to be lacking in the sleep department. Usually she hid it pretty well.

Eric sleepily traipsed in as Calleigh poured her first cup of coffee. She grabbed Eric's mug from the cabinet and filled it up before turning around with both cups in hand. Unfortunately for her, she hadn't gotten a good look at Eric before she turned; once she did, she stopped abruptly mid-motion, mouth dropping open, spilling the scalding liquid over her left hand and wrist.

"Damn it!" she hissed.

Eric snapped out of his zombie state in a flash, dashing to the sink to grab the towel. "Cal!" He helped Calleigh set the mugs on the counter before he gently took her by the arm and ran the cold water over the angry red welts rising on her hand.

"God, Eric," Calleigh whispered so that only Eric could hear. "He did that to you? Where else are you hurt?"

"It's nothing. I'm fine," he tried to downplay, failing miserably in his state of utter exhaustion.

"_Don't_ lie to me, Delko."

"Okay, okay," he whispered. "My ribs are a little sore, too. That's it, I promise."

"Am I the only one who actually _woke up_ to come to work this morning? What are you two conspiring about over there?" Speedle interjected.

Calleigh ignored Speed. She removed her hand from the running water and lowered the tap to cease the flow. "I wanna see."

"What?"

"I said show me. Right now."

"Hello?" Speed called, trying to get their attention. Eric and Calleigh spun to face Speed just so he would shut up.

"Geez, Delko. What the hell happened to your face?" Eric's left eye sported a nasty shiner, still a little swollen from its recent infliction. He also had a split lip, a knot at the top of his forehead, and a serious abrasion on his right cheekbone, almost like he'd been slammed into a wall.

"You should see the other guy," Eric laughed off Speedle's concern. Calleigh caught his arm firmly in her grasp as he attempted to escape to the safety of the couch.

"Eric," she warned. "Lift up your shirt."

"Getting a little personal there, aren't you Calleigh?" Speed grinned.

Calleigh ignored the comment for fear she would physically wipe Tim's grin off his face, and she kept her eyes trained on Eric.

Softer, but with the same intensity, Calleigh zeroed in on Eric with her emerald orbs. "Please?"

_Ugh, she knows I can't say no when she gives me that damn look_, Eric groaned. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the hem of his shirt and reluctantly yanked it up to reveal his chest and abdomen.

"Eric," Calleigh moaned at the obviously tender bruises tainting his otherwise flawless torso. She let her fingers ghost against the deep, purple aberrations. "Eric, maybe you should see a doctor."

He dropped his shirt and took a step back from Calleigh. "No," he said firmly. "No way. I've had way worse."

Calleigh swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. "Still, at least let Alexx check you out?"

She sounded so worried, so Eric caved. "Fine."

Eric leaned over and grabbed his coffee mug from the counter. "Thanks for the Cubano," he sighed and made his way over to collapse on the couch, followed closely by Speedle.

"Really, man," the other CSI asked, "what happened? You canceled last night, said you were just going home. Was that before or after you went three rounds with Mike Tyson?"

Eric's eyes shot warily in Calleigh's direction before he answered. "Before. I, uh, stopped to fill up on my way home, got jumped in the parking lot."

Speed contemplated Eric's response._ Yeah, right. That's bull._

"Delko, first, who's gonna jump a guy with a badge and a gun? Second, I drove your car to pick up lunch yesterday, and you had a full tank of gas. And third," he swiveled to throw an accusing stare at Calleigh, "Calleigh seems pretty well-informed about all of this." He paused for a minute, scrutinizing his two closest friends. "You two are hiding something."

Before either of them could answer, Horatio strode through the open door. "Calleigh," he said by way of greeting, "Calleigh, I got your message. You needed to see me."

Speedle sighed and snatched his newspaper off the coffee table before nodding to H and heading for the door. Out in the hallway, he turned back to Calleigh and Eric and said simply, "I _will _find out." Then he disappeared out of sight.

Meanwhile, ever-observant Horatio Caine noticed the bruises and cuts on Eric's face. "Mr. Delko?" he said. "Anything you'd like to share?"

Calleigh came to sit by Eric on the couch, and they shared an uncomfortable glance. Calleigh answered for him. "Horatio, we might have a bit of a situation…"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

"Okay, what's up?" Horatio sent his two CSIs a steely yet concerned look. They now sat in Horatio's office.

Calleigh and Eric took turns explaining what had happened. Eric told his boss about being in court and that he'd asked Calleigh to run an errand for him over her break. She subsequently missed lunch with Hagen, which sparked this whole absurd situation.

Horatio knew three things: One, Calleigh wasn't running an errand for Eric. She was at the hospital. What he didn't know was why, but he trusted his CSIs to tell him when the time was right.

Two, Horatio already knew of Kenwall Duquesne's drinking problem. It disappointed him that Calleigh's father had slipped up right as he started down a new, promising path. He silently vowed to take a keener interest in Duke's rehabilitation; with his connections around the city and with the DA's office, he could easily help without interfering.

Third, the lieutenant was well aware of John Hagen's unstable side. John had been Ray's partner, and his brother occasionally told stories of Hagen snapping when dealing with a suspect, or when pressure built to break a case. Just yesterday he walked in on a fight between Calleigh and Hagen in the firearms lab.

Horatio considered his options. "Thank you," he said, "for telling me. Here's what I want you to do—lay low for a while. Let me deal with this. Both of you—your personal lives stay out of the office. Do I make myself clear?"

The gentle lecture was warranted. They'd let their professionalism slip a little in the face of their personal problems. Horatio always supported his team, and he encouraged the feeling of family they had developed over the years. Nevertheless, certain things needed to be left at the crime lab's door.

They both nodded in agreement. As the pair left Horatio's office, his voice rang out. "Oh, and Eric… go see Alexx."

* * *

Weeks went by, and neither Eric nor Calleigh saw Hagen. Horatio spoke to the detective's immediate superior in homicide about the precarious situation, and they arranged for Hagen to work separate cases. Eventually, the rumor reached the lab that he was on medical leave with a bad back, and Calleigh and Eric resigned themselves to the fact that they wouldn't be seeing him for a while.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Set after ep.3x20, "Killer Date."

Chapter 9

* * *

Calleigh knocked once, twice. She knew he was awake, but that did little to settle her nerves as she stood outside his door at 2AM on a Friday night.

_What the heck am I doing here? What am I going to say to him? He's probably only awake because it's 2AM on a Friday night—his Friday nights have been awfully busy lately._

That thought made Calleigh's blood boil, and she remembered why she was currently standing on Eric Delko's front doorstep.

Calleigh Duquesne was angry. Beyond angry. And if she was willing to admit it to herself, she wasn't just angry with Eric. She was angry with Eric, and Speed, and Horatio, and Hagen, and herself, and this whole damn year.

Eric lost his badge today. His _badge_. To some two-bit slut in the parking lot of a club downtown. Not only had he lost his badge, but it was then used to aid in the commission of a murder. _This isn't the Eric that I know. This isn't my Eric._

She couldn't sleep for thinking about the day's events, and she finally reached her breaking point. For months, she and Eric had avoided talking about Speed's death. She still didn't want to talk about it. But she knew that what happened with Speed slowly began building a wedge between her and Eric, simply because they refused to talk about it.

Overnight, Calleigh and Eric went from best friends to perfect strangers. They were so distant that they couldn't even genuinely celebrate together when Marisol went into remission. Calleigh couldn't talk to him after he and Horatio were almost swept away by the tsunami that hit Miami, or after he and Alexx were caught in that fire in the Everglades. She talked to her brothers, but Derek was busy starting a family, and J.J. was young and restless, too preoccupied with his own life to be much comfort to his older sister. And neither of them were Eric.

Seven months. Seven months had passed since she spent a Sunday afternoon with Eric and his family. Seven months since Tim died, seven months that she spent engrossed in her work, busy training Ryan and trying to forget the rest of the world. Eric picked fights, and apparently engaged in meaningless and reckless sex.

A stubborn tear broke free from the restraints of her lashes. She swiped it away quickly, but not quickly enough; Eric opened the door just in time to see the salty trail on her face.

"Calleigh? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Eric. Actually, no I'm not fine. Can I come in?" Calleigh never admitted she wasn't fine, and her confession left Eric both puzzled and worried. _What on earth could make Calleigh cry?_

"Okay." He opened the door wide enough for her to enter and bolted it behind her. She made a beeline for the couch, not daring to make eye contact with Eric, and not saying anything for several moments.

Finally, when she felt his weight dip into the cushion next to her, Calleigh raised her head to meet his gaze. She had come here ablaze with fury, ready to ream him a new one for being so stupid. But now, as she looked into his piercing brown eyes, she could only ask, "Why?"

Outrage flashed across his features, but she wasn't about to let him shut her out. "Don't get angry with me, Eric. Don't push me away. Not now."

"If you came here for some kind of explanation, Calleigh, I'm sorry. I can't give you one," he spat, forcefully thrusting himself off the couch to pace on the other side of the coffee table.

"I think we need to talk about this."

His voice grew louder. He couldn't even look at her without seeing red. "NO, we don't. This is my problem. I'll handle it."

"Like you handled it today, Eric? It's not just your problem anymore when your badge is used in a homicide! It's not just your problem when your actions affect your relationships with the people who care about you!"

"Save it, Calleigh. You sound like Horatio. Self-righteous, parading around, flaunting the fact that you've never made a single mistake in your entire god-damned lives. Newsflash: I'm not perfect!"

Calleigh launched herself off the couch to face him. _Did he really just say that to me?_ "That's what I think of myself, is it? You know me so well, Delko, why don't you tell what else I'm thinking?"

Eric remained silent. "You don't really believe that," she said vehemently. Calleigh was quickly losing her grip on self control. Another tear broke through the barrier. "Because if I was perfect, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Her words sent a jolt through Eric's spine, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "What?" he asked.

"If I was perfect," Calleigh fought to say as her throat tightened with unshed tears, "Speed would still be here."

"Don't say his name," Eric hissed.

She ignored him. "If I was perfect, I would have checked his gun. I knew he didn't clean it regularly."

"Calleigh stop."

"If I was perfect," her voice shrilled, breaking over the waves of emotion she could no longer fight back, "then we would have talked after Tim's funeral."

"DON'T SAY HIS NAME!" Eric roared, knocking the picture frames on his mantle into a shattered heap of glass on the floor.

Tears streamed down Calleigh's face, her heart breaking into a million pieces along with the glass. "I WILL!" she screamed. "I will, Eric! Because every time I think about what happened that day, I know that I didn't just lose Tim. I lost you, too! I LET you go, because it hurt too much to deal with the pain. You needed a friend, and I just walked away." Her chest heaved with the burden of her confession.

"Calleigh—"

"Don't, Eric. Don't tell me that it's not my fault."

He took a few steps toward her, reaching out to touch her arms. "It's not."

She jerked away like she'd been burned. "YES IT IS!" Sobs wracked her body now. "You needed comfort, and I wasn't there. So you ended up finding comfort the only way you could."

Something broke inside him. "Calleigh, don't do this to yourself." Eric grabbed both her arms firmly with his hands, fighting as she shoved hard against his chest.

"Get off of me! Get off!"

"I'll let go of you when you can control yourself." She only fought harder, rage searing from her head to her toes at his brazenness. "Stop fighting, Cal. STOP!" She slackened a bit in his embrace, but still kept her defensive posture.

"I made my own decisions, okay? You didn't force me to do anything. I have to pay for my mistakes," he swallowed hard. "Speed paid for his. You shouldn't have to do it along with us."

Damn Eric and his uncanny ability to take the fight out of her. His hands still persisted against her arms, and she finally relinquished—relinquished control, and anger, and fear, and fell into his chest.

"How did things become so damn complicated?" she muttered into his shirt, beating his chest lightly with her fists in an attempt to channel the hurt away from the gaping hole in her gut.

Eric held her as tight as he could, sweeping his hands over her back. "I don't know, Cal. I just don't know."

Long minutes went by in silence as they stood trying to battle the demons that lingered around them, and, for the first time in a long time, trying to do it together. As Eric heard Calleigh's breathing slowly even out, he broke the spell around them with five little words. "You haven't lost me, Calleigh."

The night held many surprises for the two friends, but primarily a long, entirely over-due conversation about Tim Speedle and the tragedy that had definitively changed both their lives. Over the next few weeks, Eric and Calleigh fell into a new routine, different from the one they shared with Speed, but ringing of the same deep trust that bound the old one so tightly.

One night couldn't heal the wounds of the last seven months, but it went a long way. Eric thought about Calleigh's words back at the lab, _"If it helps, this is atypical behavior for you." _The next day, Eric went to Psychological Services, more for Calleigh and Horatio than for himself. Surprisingly, it helped.

A long, raving lecture from Derek Duquesne didn't hurt either. Calleigh had told her brother what happened, and he took it upon himself to let Eric know just what kind of an ass he was being. Eric didn't blame him; he owned his actions, which gave him definite points in Derek's mind.

A few weeks after that, when John Hagen shot himself in Calleigh's lab, she tried to shut Eric out. That was their pattern, right? But he wouldn't let her, not this time.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Set around ep. 4x08, "Nailed."

Chapter 10

* * *

Ryan scrubbed his eyes as he approached the crime scene, cursing Delko and sorely missing the sleep he so desperately needed.

Ten feet in front of him, Calleigh held up a power tool of some kind. "Is that a nail gun?"

The woman's brow crinkled when she heard a male voice she wasn't expecting. "What are you doin' here?"

"Exactly," Wolfe sighed.

"I thought this was your day off?"

"Should be, after twelve days straight," came the frustrated reply.

_Damn it_. "Eric didn't answer the call-out." Calleigh took a deep breath. This was becoming a pattern again for her best friend, but he wasn't talking yet. She knew something was bothering him, but she wanted to let him come to her on his own terms. If he kept this up, though, Calleigh would have to push the issue.

"Yeah, that's starting to become a habit. It's not the only one if you know what I mean."

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," she growled softly.

Ryan rolled his eyes. Calleigh would defend Delko with her dying breath. It was pointless to complain to her. "Fine, what do we got?"

"Thirty-nine year old female, Brenda Hall…"

* * *

A few hours later, Eric exited the elevators to the Crime Lab, checking his watch as he went. He walked straight into Calleigh and Wolfe, the latter of whom wasted no time in greeting him.

"Oh, there he is. Nice of you to show up," the younger CSI spat, shooting him daggers with his tired eyes.

"What's your problem, Wolfe?"

"Must be nice to work on Delko Time, cherry-pick cases, show up when you want."

Eric might have apologized for missing the call-out, but any apology died on his tongue at Ryan's critical tone. _What the hell does he know about me? I've worked here for over five years, and he's been here, what, one? _

He bit back the desire to put Ryan in his place and focused on his best friend. "I had something I had to take care of. You need any help, Calleigh?"

"Yo, Eric. It's too little, too late," Wolfe interrupted.

The man was testing Eric's patience. "If I _thought_ that you could even understand what I'm going through, I'd explain it to you."

Calleigh's eyes grew wide in alarm. Missing a call-out was one thing; picking a fight with a co-worker in the middle of the Crime Lab was another. "Okay, you know what, that is enough. I get it. Eric, we are fine. If I need extra help, I will call you. You, in the elevator with me, we're leaving now."

Eric sent Calleigh a hurt look as they parted ways, and she couldn't shake it as she boarded the elevator with Ryan, who was still complaining.

"You always take his side."

_This is getting really old,_ Calleigh thought. "Funny, he always says the same thing about you."

* * *

Delko was driving like a mad man. Ten minutes ago he was headed to another crime scene when dispatch sounded over the radio. Wolfe was down.

He'd raced blindly to the location provided by dispatch, guilt sinking heavily to the pit of his stomach. It should have been him, not Ryan. The sight of the young man with a nail jutting out of his bloody eye was shocking, and Eric jumped into action, choosing to take his co-worker to the emergency room rather than wait for an ambulance.

Now, as they sped toward the hospital, Ryan sat in the passenger seat screaming. "Aaaaah! Aaah!"

Eric reached over and stilled the man's movements, keeping one hand on the wheel and one eye on the road. "Wolfe! Stay with me Wolfe!"

"Ahh, no!"

"You stay with me, we're almost there!"

The sirens, the sounds of the city flying by, the radio, Wolfe's screams—Eric knew this would stay with him, keep him up at night for months to come. _It should have been me! _he kept repeating to himself over and over.

"No, I gotta pull it out!" Ryan cried.

Eric gripped his companion tighter. "No, don't you dare pull it out, Wolfe! Take your hand off your eye! You take that nail out you could die."

_Where the hell is our escort?_ For the hundredth time, Eric grabbed the radio and screamed instructions at whoever was listening. "This is car 529 heading east on Flagler. I need all units available for traffic assistance. Officer down! Repeat, officer down!"

He turned back to the man in the passenger seat. "Wolfe you stay with me, Wolfe. Alright? Stay with me we're almost there! C'mon!!" No response. Eric turned fully to observe Ryan, and his heart skipped a beat. "No, Wolfe, you're not going into shock! Come on! Stay with me!"

The radio, again. "This is Eric Delko, Miami Dade PD. I need a trauma team available at the entrance of the ER immediately."

Finally, the Hummer flew into the parking lot of the hospital, coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the ambulance bay. Eric jumped from the vehicle as he saw a team of doctors rushing toward them. Carefully, they pulled Ryan from the truck and onto a waiting gurney.

Eric watched helplessly as the doctors took control of the situation. "Check his vitals and contain the bleeding. Get me radiology, now. Sir, sir, you need to wait here."

"I wanna go with him," the Cuban man protested. He was responsible; he needed to stay with Wolfe and make sure he was okay.

The doctor stopped him with a hand to his chest. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."

Eric cursed inwardly and sent a hand through his hair in frustration. "Well, tell me what you're gonna do to him."

"Won't know until I can take x-rays, see if he's suffered any brain or optical damage."

"Fine, the minute that you know something I want to know."

"Okay," the doctor agreed as he hurried away.

Eric felt lost. He couldn't follow Wolfe into the trauma area, and he refused to leave until he had some news, but he didn't know what to do with himself until then.

Horatio walked up to Eric in the hallway, noticing his CSI's distress. As much as he felt for the man, Delko was in some deep water, here. "What happened, Eric?"

"I was about a block away when I heard dispatch," he sighed. "I never made it to the original crime scene. Did you?"

Horatio nodded. "I was there five hours ago. I didn't see you."

"Yeah, well I never got the page," Eric grimaced. "Dispatch was supposed to try me three times; they went straight to Wolfe."

Silence settled momentarily between the two men. "This is becoming a pattern, isn't it?" the red-headed lieutenant admonished gently.

"I've got some things going on," Eric admitted quietly. It was no excuse, really, and Horatio knew it.

H answered his buzzing cell phone as he responded to his friend, a little disappointed. "We all do Eric. Yeah, okay, just hold him there."

"We found the contractor," he explained as he made to leave. Eric wasn't off the hook. "We'll talk later."

Eric just stood dejected in the hallway, and watched his boss turn the corner at the end of the corridor. He headed to the waiting room to listen for news on Wolfe. When his phone rang an hour later, he'd received no report from the doctors.

"Delko."

"I need you on the scene, Eric, I'm sorry. We're short-handed."

"No problem, H. I'm leaving now."

"Thanks. Eric—" Horatio paused, "Wolfe will be fine. This is not your fault."

Eric wasn't so sure about that. "H we do need to talk," he admitted. "I know this isn't my fault, but we both know Ryan should never have been there."

Horatio was glad to see his CSI taking responsibility. He just needed to make sure Delko didn't beat himself up too much. "Eric, I don't need an explanation. You obviously realize that this needs to stop. I trust you to take care of it."

"Thanks, H. I'll, uh, check in with you later."

The line went dead. Something told Horatio that there was far more to this story than Eric's apparent carelessness. The thought stayed with him as he hung up the phone and went back to work.

* * *

Two hours later…

"Brenda Hall premeditated her own murder," Eric surmised in wonder.

H nodded his head in confirmation. "That's correct."

This case was definitely twisted. "Carl didn't kill her so who did?" Eric asked.

"Well, we're gonna have a better idea once we retrieve all of the evidence."

After he left the hospital, Eric went back to the crime scene and re-processed the entire area. "I thought we did. What did I miss?"

"Eric, visiting hours at the hospital conclude this evening at 8PM," Horatio commented cryptically. Part of Eric wondered if H actually knew what was going on. He suspected that his boss was aware of his whereabouts this morning, in his creepy omnipresent, omniscient way. He shook off the thought and returned his attention to Horatio.

"The nail in Wolfe's eye."

"That's correct."

The two men parted with a final nod of understanding, and Eric headed to the hospital. As he walked up the sidewalk toward the entrance, he spotted a familiar figure.

_What the—? _"Mari!"

"Eric!" His sister was genuinely surprised to see her brother there. Not as surprised as Eric was to see her, though.

"What are you doing here?" he asked worriedly.

Marisol sent him a cautioning glance. _Calm down, little brother_. "Just an appointment with my doctor."

"How come you didn't tell me this, this morning?" Eric pressed, his brow furrowing with concern.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"Marisol—"

"I just need to make sure," she admitted to her brother, begging him with her eyes to not freak out about this.

"Look, let me go in with you, okay?"

"No—you can't spend all your time with me," Marisol chastised, backing away from him gently when he reached a hand for her. "I'm fine… I'm fine!"

Calleigh spotted Eric as she walked out of the hospital's sliding doors. He was standing with a tall, thin woman, and, although Calleigh couldn't see her face, she could tell by the woman's graceful curves that she was obviously very beautiful. _That explains a lot_, Calleigh thought to herself and rolled her eyes. _Please don't tell me he's started this again!_

As the woman walked away, Calleigh caught her co-worker's eye. Eric jumped a little when he caught sight of the ballistics expert.

"Hey Eric…she's a pretty girl," Calleigh fished.

"Yeah," Eric trailed off, a little confused. "Look I was just on my way to see Wolfe's doctor, get the nail."

"I already picked it up."

"Beat me to it," he chuckled lamely.

Calleigh took a step forward. "Hey, Eric, whatever you've got going on with that girl you need to do it on your own time, okay?"

Anger flared in Eric, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he answered his best friend with a little sadness. "Before I lose my job?"

"Before you lose respect," she responded gently. Calleigh gave Eric a small smile and turned her back to him, heading toward her Hummer. Her heart was breaking a little to think that Eric still hadn't learned his lesson after all this time. Did their friendship mean nothing? Would he willingly throw his future away for a good time?

Something in Eric's chest broke a little that Calleigh still couldn't give him the benefit of the doubt after all they'd been through. He wasn't sure if he should be mad at Calleigh for not trusting him, or mad at himself for not giving her a reason to. His mind screamed to stop her before it was too late.

"You haven't seen her in a while. She's so thin," she heard quietly behind her. Calleigh froze and dropped her head. _Of course. I didn't see it two years ago. I should never have missed the signs twice._

Without turning around to face Eric, she asked in disbelief, "That was Marisol?"

Eric sighed. "Yeah."

Calleigh crossed her arms and slowly turned around to face him. "Eric, I am so, so sorry."

"What, for Marisol or for jumping to conclusions?" He knew he shouldn't be angry with her, but he couldn't help it.

"Both," Calleigh answered, nearly inaudibly. She closed the distance between them. "That's where you were this morning. With Mari."

"Yeah," Eric responded, guilt setting in for his outburst at his best friend. "Look, I'm sorry for taking out my frustration on you. You don't deserve it."

"Maybe I do."

"No, you don't."

"Why didn't you tell me she was sick again? I thought we were past this."

Eric shuffled his feet and contemplated her question. "I don't know. She only started chemo about a month ago. We've been so busy with work, and I haven't seen you over at the house in a while…"

"That's no reason, Eric… does Natalia know?" Calleigh felt weird asking that last question, for some reason. But a part of her needed to know if Eric trusted his new girlfriend with what he couldn't confide in his _best_ friend.

The man was genuinely confused. _How did Natalia enter this conversation?_ "Does Natalia know what?"

"Know about Marisol," Cal clarified.

"Why would I tell her about Marisol?"

Now it was Calleigh's turn to be confused. "Well, you two are dating aren't you?"

"Just where are you getting your information?" Eric asked, amused.

The woman rolled her eyes, starting to feel a little silly. "I talked with Derek a couple weeks ago, and he said, and I quote, 'Eric's dating a new hottie.'"

Eric laughed. "And you automatically assumed that was Natalia…"

"Well, I did put a few clues together myself."

"Is it that obvious?" he asked nervously. Yeah, Eric was seeing Natalia. He wasn't exactly trying to hide it, but he didn't want the whole lab knowing the particulars of his love life.

Calleigh raised her eyebrows at the question. "To me? Yes. Kind of like Marisol being sick again _should _have been."

"Cal, don't do that. I should have told you sooner. As for Natalia… well, I guess you can say we're dating. 'Seeing each other' is probably a little more accurate. She doesn't even know my sisters' names, let alone that Mari had… has… cancer."

Calleigh offered Eric an apologetic smile, partly in an attempt to comfort him, but mostly in an effort to disguise what she was really feeling. She shouldn't have felt satisfaction that she still warranted Eric's primary confidences, nor should she have felt a tiny flutter of relief to hear Eric speak so flippantly of his relationship with the new DNA tech.

"So you two aren't serious," she pushed carefully.

"Not in the slightest," Eric responded immediately. "But if you're worried I'm falling on old patterns, Cal, don't do that either. I'm just not looking for my future wife at the moment."

Calleigh had the decency to blush. "I'm sorry I assumed. After our case the other day, you'd think I'd know better." Between Erica Sykes, the insane case with as many theories as investigators, and the tension pulsing between Eric and Ryan, that week was extremely interesting.

Something jarred loose in Calleigh's memory…

--FLASHBACK--

"_Who borrowed the back-up kit last?"_

"_I did," Eric stated._

"_There are no swabs, evidence bags, and the Mag light's dead."_

"_I meant to restock it, sorry."_

_Calleigh knelt down to Eric's kit. "I'm gonna borrow some of yours."_

"_Actually, I need those."_

"_I know the feeling," she groused lightly._

"_Could you at least leave me a pair of gloves?"_

"_Yes, yours don't fit me anyway."_

"_Dude, are those rolling papers in there?" Wolfe noted suspiciously._

"_They're not mine," Eric defended. "Someone must have borrowed the kit."_

_Calleigh smiled demurely. "At least they restocked it."_

"_Yeah, we really gotta crack down on the pot-smoking kit thieves around here."_

_Eric grew angry, this time. "I said they're not mine."_

"_Relax, Delko. I believe you. I hate it when people jump to conclusions, don't you?"_

--END FLASHBACK--

"The rolling papers," Calleigh breathed suddenly, her eyes darting to lock onto Eric's.

"What about them?" Eric tried to steer her away from thinking about the papers Wolfe saw in his kit. She'd obviously made the connection, however.

"Eric you _cannot_ do this."

"I told you they weren't mine. Calleigh, drop it."

"Eric!"

"Papers like that are used for a million different things, Cal. And besides, I _told_ you, they are not mine." His eyes told her that she had to drop this line of questioning. He refused to let her be a part of this, whatever _this_ was.

"Fine. But I want to know everything about Marisol," she said finally, already knowing that Eric wasn't going to tell her everything.

"It's not good, Calleigh," he sighed. "Look, can we talk about this later tonight? Now's not the time."

"Sure, after shift," she replied quietly. Then she added with a wink, "If you think Natalia won't mind."

Eric blushed. "She won't. Cal, if this is going to be a problem…"

"Relax, I'm not saying anything. As long as y'all don't get all hot 'n heavy in the evidence locker…"

"I _do_ have some boundaries, you know."

"Are you sure, because—"

"Isn't there some kind of rule where we can't talk about this?" Eric laughed.

Calleigh just smirked at his reference to "rule number nine" and hit him on the arm as he walked past her toward the parking lot.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Set around ep. 4x10, "Shattered." Not beta'd. Beyond busy with work; sorry for the insanely long wait for updates. I'm getting there, promise.

A/N2: I've mentioned Derek, Leah, their sons Jasper and Hayden, and Delko's sister Isabel in this story or others. If you'd like help keeping the characters straight, check out the link on my ff homepage to my website, where I have posted family trees for Eric and Calleigh, along with a CSIM timeline (canon+my own storylines). Also, just posted some E/C videos I made-fun new way to break writer's block. Check it out and tell me what you think.

Chapter 11

* * *

"His name is Johnny Nixon, Eric. You two know each other, don't you?"

Eric received the shock of his life two minutes ago when he walked up to Horatio, only for the man to point to Nixon in their interrogation room. Nixon, the absolute last person he wanted or needed to see in the middle of MDPD. Nixon's presence not only threatened his job as a CSI, it endangered his reputation and Marisol's well-being.

"What did he tell you?" he asked his boss carefully.

"He said that he sold you marijuana. Is that true?" Horatio shot straight; he needed to know what was going on, and he needed to know now.

_I can't lie to him. Not to Horatio. _His LT truly had his best interests at heart, Eric knew that. He couldn't lie to a man who literally molded and shaped him into the person he was today. "Yeah, it is. There were extenuating circumstances, H."

H bowed his head only a second before immediately jumping into action to help his CSI. "Eric, listen to me. I don't want you to say anything to anybody, especially internal affairs, circumstances or not, okay?"

The Cuban's heart sank. "So you definitely think there'll be an investigation?"

Out of the corner of his eye, _now_ Delko spotted the last person he wanted or needed to see at the moment. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Gentlemen."

"As expected, Rick," Horatio greeted with the disdain he reserved especially for Rick Stetler.

Pompously, and only a little apologetically, Rick replied, "I'm just doing my job, Horatio."

"Yeah, and loving every minute," Eric spat. No way he'd receive a fair shake with Stetler on his ass. The man was out to pin the Lab, and he didn't care how he did it.

The redheaded lieutenant remained unfazed. "Rick, Eric has requested to speak to a union rep before he talks to you."

Stetler turned to the younger CSI. "Great. First order of business, I need a urine test from you."

"That's fine," Horatio answered on Eric's behalf.

"Okay, second," Stetler said, annoyed that he couldn't get a rise out of either man, "I need to speak with all of his colleagues and get a statement. And that'll include you."

Still, H stood calmly. "That's not going to be a problem, Rick."

Clearly agitated, the man moved on. "Okay, where's the witness?"

"The _suspect,_" Horatio corrected, "is right in that room, currently being interrogated for murder, Rick."

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen." Stetler dismissed himself and hurried away to find his incriminating evidence. This was the break he'd been waiting for.

As for Eric, he felt exhausted and like he was on pins and needles all at the same time. His life was such a rollercoaster right now; he needed Horatio to understand. "Look, H, I'm telling you the truth. I don't smoke pot.

Luckily, Horatio did understand, and he was prepared to help Eric any way he knew how. Stetler, the CSI chief knew, was on a personal crusade against _him_, not Eric. He had a responsibility to his protégé, and to his team, to ensure Stetler's plans never made it past the strategy phase.

When Eric and Horatio parted ways, the younger man headed straight for his lab, hoping that work would help him focus. Twenty minutes later, he heard the door swing open and a small cough sound from the end of his lab table. A small smile spread across Eric's face; without looking up, he knew Calleigh had come to check on him.

"You want to know if it's true?" he asked before finally raising his eyes to meet his friend's. For a moment, he forgot where he was. All he could see was a pair of sea-green eyes, and all he could hear was a busy crowd, and foghorns, and a man's voice over a loudspeaker_…_

Calleigh went to the same place, and she suddenly realized she hadn't been there in a while. She'd spent the last year or so training Ryan, and with everything else that was going on in their lives—she missed her friend.

In the back of his mind, Eric saw more; he heard more. Faintly—he saw a bright smile, and messy braided pigtails, and a small, fierce woman wrestling an alligator. _God, that seems so long ago…_

"I know it's not true," Calleigh said softly into the easy silence resting between them, breaking Eric free of his memories.

"We can't talk about this, Cal," Eric lamented, setting down the forceps and magnifying glass in his hands.

She nodded. "I know."

"So…why are you here?"

The woman smiled, and the weight in Eric's heart lifted _just_ enough that he could see a light at the end of this nightmare. "Just wanted to let you know that I'm here if you need to talk. After Stetler interviews me, I guess. But I'm here all the same."

Eric grinned. "Thanks, Cal. That means a lot. Oh, hey—my mom told me to remind you about Isa's baby shower next week. She said you never RSVP'd."

Calleigh slapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh my gosh, I completely forgot. I've been so preoccupied with Leah's showers. Yeah, I'll be there. What is it… like two more months?"

The man's grin grew wider thinking about his sister and the niece and nephew that would be here any time. "Yeah, but with twins, you never know."

"Yeah. Well, I'll give Carmen a call when—" Calleigh stopped short as she spotted Rick Stetler walking by the lab, clearly making all sorts of assumptions about why she was talking to Delko. "You know what, I better go," she sighed. "But I'll track you down later, 'kay?"

"That's fine," Eric said quietly, returning to his work.

Before Calleigh left, she stuck her head back through the door. "Eric?"

He looked up and met her eyes, fighting the urge to get lost in memories all over again.

"Hang in there. We'll get through this." She sent him one final smile and a curt nod of her head, and then she was gone.

Eric certainly felt bolstered after Calleigh's visit. _Odd_, he thought, because really, she'd said so little. _Then again, we've rarely needed many words._ A heartfelt smile, a brief look, a few murmured words of encouragement—they'd survived on less.

Delko felt confident that Calleigh would stand up for him in her 'interview' (read: interrogation) with Stetler. But Wolfe? With Ryan, a few weeks meant the difference in throwing Eric under the bus and having his back. The two men shared a newfound bond after the scary incident with the nail gun.

-FLASHBACK—

"_I heard they were letting you out."_

"_Well, I promised I wouldn't drive."_

"_I know. That's why I, uh, came by. Give you a lift."_

"_Thanks."_

"_Look I'm going by your place anyway."_

"_It's cool. I'm just going to take a cab."_

"_Listen! I know this is my fault."_

"_What is?"_

"_Your eye."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_I'm talking about, it was my call, okay? No matter what's going on in my life, I should have rolled."_

"_And take a nail in your eye? I don't think so. Look, Eric, I went in there without any backup, I went in there without my gun drawn. This is my fault…Uh, thank you very much for driving me to the ER. That's some crazy driving."_

"_It's no problem. Look, you ever mention anything about 'Delko Time' again, you're going to need to rent a room in this place."_

"_Fair enough."_

-END FLASHBACK—

Their bond was newfound, and it was tentative. Could he trust Ryan not to give him up in interrogation? _Who the hell knows_. With another deep sigh, Eric set back to work and tried not to think about it.

* * *

He dove for the phone and reached it just in time, answering it on the last ring. "Delko"

"Dude, why are you out of breath? Do I need to call back later?"

Eric recognized Derek Duquesne snickering on the other end of the line. "Nah," he chuckled breathlessly. "Just came in from a jog. Couldn't get to my phone."

"Gotcha. Must have been a hell of a run. This is the third time I've called."

"Eight miles." A long whistle sounded in Eric's ear as he plopped himself wearily on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand.

"Beats your usual five. What gives?"

Tired, sweaty, and fed up with life in general, all Eric could manage was a dry, mirthless laugh. "What gives? Well, should I start with how my sister is dying, or should I skip to the part where I got fired today for using drugs?"

All Eric could hear now was the buzzing of the empty phone line. Finally, Derek found his words. "Um, I guess you need to start with Marisol. Better yet, start with why you didn't tell me she was sick again."

"Same _damn_ questions. It's like everyone is entitled—shit, sorry Derek. It's just been…a day. It's been a day."

"Sounds like it. Marisol?"

"Yeah, she's sick. We started chemo again about two months ago. I didn't tell anyone at first. I'm tired of having to deal with this."

"'At first.' So I'm assuming Cal knows?"

"Yeah, she knows. Tore me a new one for not telling her as soon as we found out."

"Of course. She just wants to be there for you."

"I know. I _know_, really, I do. She told me the other day that—let's see if I get this right—'Damn it, Eric, you're not Superman. So get your head out of your ass and let me help you!'"

Derek burst into laughter. Delko's impersonation of Calleigh was pretty good. "That's my sister. Sounds like something Leah told me yesterday, except it was more like, 'Damn it, Der, I'm not Wonder Woman. Get your head out of your ass and help me!'"

Eric's laughter joined Derek's over the phone. "I take it pregnancy isn't agreeing with her right now?"

"Not at eight-and-a-half months, with a toddler in the midst of the terrible twos. We're not talking about my family, though. We're talking about yours, and how you apparently should be in jail right now." Derek's tone of voice took on a hard edge with his last words.

"Relax," Eric sighed. "I still have my job. I'm not going to jail. But it looked iffy for a while. And before I tell you this story, your sister already read me the riot act for getting involved with this in the first place, as did Alexx and Horatio. I don't need to hear it."

"Since when do I lecture you, man? That's Cal's job."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well…"

"Delko! Seriously, what happened?"

"Right. I, uh, I've been helping out with Mari, you know? And she's been so sick from the chemo, the only thing that helps with the pain is medical marijuana."

"Ugh—I can see where this is headed."

"Yeah, well, like I said. I've been helping her out. Anyway, long story short, a suspect in a murder case pegged me as one of his clients. IAB got wind of it. Stetler ran with it, obviously. The guy who ID'd me wasn't credible, yadda yadda. By the end of the day, Horatio had the whole thing under wraps."

Derek cleared his throat. "So, you've had…a day."

"Oh, that's not all," Eric interrupted. "I got my job back, no charges filed, went back to work, everything was fine. Marisol calls me after my shift ends. You know what she tells me?"

"What?"

"Well, back-track: she came to the lab today to tell H I don't do drugs. Told him our whole story."

"Wait, what did Horatio say?" Between Calleigh and Eric, Derek felt like he knew everyone at the lab already, even if he'd yet to meet them face-to-face.

"Nothing. He was disappointed I didn't tell him about Mari. But he didn't say a damn thing, because—get this—Mari asked him to dinner. And he said _yes_. My boss said _yes_ to a date with my sister! I mean, _come_ _on._ The man's always going on about conflicts of interests—telling _me_ to leave my personal life at home, not to wear my heart on my sleeve. And he starts dating _my_ sister, the day that I'm busted and cleared for buying drugs. For my sister. Who he's now dating." Eric took a deep breath and absently hurled one of his couch pillows across the room.

On the other end of the line, Derek chuckled. "Feel better?"

"Not really," came the miserable reply. "I want to forget this day ever happened."

"Sorry, bro. Life doesn't work that way."

"Tell me about it. Anyway, that's my sob story. Is there a reason you called me three times in an hour, when I haven't talked to you in, what…three weeks?"

Derek perked up. "Actually, yes. I might have some good news for your crappy day, after all."

"Oh , yeah?" Eric launched himself off the couch and into the kitchen in search of a bottle of water.

"Yes. Leah and I thought about it, and we want you to be Hayden's godfather, too. Think you're up to it?"

Eric froze in mid-motion, hand on the open refrigerator door. Letting it fall shut with a quiet 'humph,' he took a step back, a giant grin slowly creeping across his face.

Derek continued, "I mean, I know Jasper's a handful, but we'd really like for both our boys to have the same god—"

"I'm in."

"You're in? Just like that?"

Eric laughed. "Just like that. Derek, I never get to see Jasper. Maybe with two godsons, you'll let them visit their godparents some time."

"Calleigh gets to see them all she wants. It's a two hour flight, Delko."

"Which I can't afford. Besides I've got a lot on my plate." The joyfulness disappeared quickly from Eric's voice, a fact which did not go unnoticed by his friend.

"Listen," Derek said as cheerfully as possible, "as soon as Leah feels up to it after Hayden's born, we'll take a trip to Miami. Maybe even for Christmas. Then she and Isabel can coo over babies and share tips and do whatever it is that new moms do. How's that sound?"

"Ha. Sounds good," Eric said, a small smile returning to his lips.

"Alright, it's a deal."

"Derek?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you. For making me their godfather, I mean." Whether Derek knew it or not, that was just the piece of news Eric needed to hear after a day like today.

"We wouldn't want anyone else, man." Eric heard Leah calling for her husband in the background. "Listen, I gotta go. I'll catch you later."

"Alright. Later."

That night, the last thing on Eric's mind was Johnny Nixon, or Stetler, or his sister, or even his boss dating his sister. Instead, as he drifted off to sleep, Eric saw two little boys with goggles and floaties, learning to swim with their godfather. Somewhere, he knew even in sleep, a pair of sea-green eyes looked on with pride.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Set around ep. 4x23, "Shock."

Chapter 12

* * *

He'd spent the last two hours holed up in his lab without a single visitor, so when Horatio suddenly appeared a few feet away, the man took Delko by surprise. His LT's hesitancy to speak almost surprised the young CSI more than his quiet entrance.

"Eric, there's something I wanted to talk to you about." Horatio paused for a split second, then added: "Marisol."

Instantly on alert, Eric inquired promptly after his sister. "She okay?"

Strange, that he should be asking his boss about his sister's condition. Strange because Horatio was no longer just his boss, but his sister's boyfriend, and strange because Eric had spent so much of his life the last few years making sure Marisol stayed healthy—stayed alive—only to be cast to the sidelines overnight in favor of Horatio.

"She's fine," H responded quickly to dispel her brother's concern. "She and I are getting married today."

Horatio watched carefully for Eric's reaction, knowing he probably would not receive the news well. He knew his CSI, and Mari knew her brother—they both simply prayed that Eric would listen and understand.

Seeing his words gradually register, Horatio continued. "We don't have the luxury of time, Eric, and it would make her happy…The other thing that would make her happy is for you to be there."

Eric clenched his jaw and remained mute. At the moment, he didn't even want to look at Horatio. He silently cheered himself for keeping the strongest of his emotions from showing on his face.

"I don't know," he managed to answer, a million indignant questions flying through his head. Didn't H realize Marisol was _dying_? Couldn't he see she had so little energy left? How was she supposed to learn to be a wife, or build a home and a family, when her life was literally a daily roller coaster?

Horatio persisted. "I understand, but Eric, it would mean a lot."

"Yeah," he replied reluctantly. "I'll think about it."

Not wanting to prolong the agony of the conversation, and not wanting to exacerbate the anger slowly beginning to boil in his chest, Eric abruptly changed the subject to their current case. "H the pill from Nikki's throat had a word stamped on it. Saliva deteriorated a portion of it."

Horatio seemed grateful for the shift in focus, as well, and he gladly examined the pill Delko held out to him. "'Ghost.' Is that a street term?"

Eric appreciated that about his boss and mentor: he knew when to press and to back off, he never criticized in front of others, and he always knew what to say and when to say it. Back to business.

"Didn't sound familiar so I scraped a sample and ran it through tox."

"What'd you find?"

"It's a designer drug," Eric explained. "Knock-off of Ecstasy. So new it's not even in the government's controlled substance list. One of the ingredients is ephedrine, used in cold medicine."

Horatio's knowing eyes twinkled. "Yes, but it is also used in the production of methamphetamine, isn't it?"

Eric nodded, following H's train of thought. "Whoever was going to manufacture this was going to need to buy a lot of it."

"And they're also going to need an ID to purchase it."

"That's right. I'll run it through Narco and see if we get any red flags. I'll let you know."

"Let's do that," Horatio said. Without further fanfare, he left Eric to do his job—and to think about their previous conversation in peace.

* * *

Two hours later, however, Eric still remained on the fence about his sister's decision. On his way back from interviewing a witness, he saw her waiting for him on the steps of PD. How she knew where and when to find him, he could only guess. The 'how' definitely had red hair and sunglasses, though.

"I hear congratulations are in order," he said by way of greeting.

"Listen, I wanted to tell you," Marisol replied nervously. "I was just afraid of how you'd react."

Eric exhaled a short, sarcastic laugh. "How did mami and papi take it?" he asked.

Shock slowly replaced sarcasm when Mari didn't respond, and the carefully controlled emotions raging all day inside Eric finally broke free of their restraints. He didn't give a damn anymore. "You didn't even tell them?"

"This is exactly why," she defended. "I knew they'd react the same way you are."

"Look, Mari. You should be concentrating on getting better right now."

Marisol sometimes forgot that her illness didn't just affect her, but her entire family. She faced a monumental fight against the leukemia ravaging her body, and no one would dare diminish her struggle. But in Eric's estimation, he'd given up much of his own life to help her in that struggle—his time and energy, his apartment, his paycheck, his job, his reputation, and at times his very sanity. He'd never given so much of himself to someone else.

"Why do you always focus on the negative? That's one of the things I love about Horatio. He makes me think about the positive."

"You barely know him!" Eric cried.

A few weeks ago Marisol stopped her chemo treatments. And for what? So that all their sacrifices could go to waste? Could he really stand up beside his sister and Horatio, knowing full well he couldn't support their decision? She'd sign the marriage certificate, and sign her death warrant.

"No, _you_ barely know him," Mari responded forcefully. "He is not the same man you see at work."

"Don't you think it'd be wise to slow down right now?"

Marisol stood her ground. "I want to have a life just like everybody else."

"What if the cancer comes back?" Eric asked, voicing his fears.

"What if it doesn't? I need to start living for the future. Until Horatio, I didn't know if I had one." Mari pleaded with her brother one last time: "So you'll be at the ceremony?"

Eric thought about his options. He thought about how much he loved his big sister, and how much he truly wanted her to live a full and happy life. But she had to _live _first. "I'm sorry."

His heart broke at the pain on Marisol's face as he walked away. Turning his back on her was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but he swallowed the hurt, kept going, and refused to look back.

* * *

Try as he might to shake his frustration, Marisol still occupied Eric's thoughts as he sought out Valera in the DNA lab. Instead of the resident tech, however, he encountered Boa Vista working on a few cold cases.

"Hey."

Natalia looked up in surprise. "Hi. Are you looking for the toothpick results?"

"Yeah. Valera was supposed to have something for me."

"Yeah, she was kind of swamped so I told her I'd jump in and help you out."

"Okay." An awkward silence blossomed quickly.

Neither Eric nor Natalia could help the shy smiles that passed between them. Their relationship ended weeks ago, but they were still searching for that firm ground between steamy lovers and former-lovers-turned-good-friends; hence, the occasional nervous exchanges they shared at work.

"Is everything okay?" Natalia asked.

Eric immediately took a giant mental step back. "Yeah, fine."

"I mean, I know we didn't spend that much time together," she said tentatively, "but enough to know when something's bothering you."

The corners of Eric's mouth turned up in a soft smile, glad to know he really could count Natalia among his friends. "Yeah, I'm just dealing with some personal things, but I'll, um, I'll work it out. Thank you."

Natalia nodded, sending him an unspoken 'any time.'

"So, what's the word on the toothpick?" he asked, bringing them back to his original purpose.

"Oh, uh, well I extracted enough DNA for a profile and CODIS found a match. Wanna check out your donor?" She turned the computer so Eric could see the screen.

"Dario Sanez," he read aloud.

"Think that's your drug dealer?"

"Well if he's not, he's definitely cooking it. Thanks."

Natalia's eyes followed Eric out the door. If she was honest with herself, she wished things had ended differently between them. Actually, she wished they hadn't ended at all. They did, though, and she reminded herself that now she needed to work on being his friend.

Pushing her other desires aside, Natalia focused on the fact that Eric seemed more troubled today than she'd ever seen him—including the day of her pregnancy scare. Seeing Calleigh coming down the hall with Ryan, Nat made a snap decision and rushed to the door.

"Calleigh! Over here," she called, the top half of her body leaning out into the hallway.

The ballistics expert turned to find the voice calling her name and smiled brightly when she saw Natalia. "I'll catch up to you, Ryan," she said to the man now standing behind her.

"What about the suspect?" Wolfe asked as Calleigh walked toward Natalia and the DNA lab.

She tossed her hand in dismissal. "I'll be five minutes. She can wait. I'll meet you there, okay?"

"Alright." Ryan continued on to the interrogation room, and Calleigh followed Nat into the lab.

"What's going on?" she asked happily. Female interaction came rarely around PD, and Cal appreciated the small moments she could spend in the company of other women. Unfortunately, she realized from Natalia's demeanor, this did not promise to be a light conversation. Calleigh repeated her question, this time more seriously. "What's going on, Natalia?"

The tall brunette sat down on one of the lab stools, twisting her hands apprehensively. "Honestly," she said, "I need to ask you a question, and I need you to answer without jumping to conclusions."

Cal peered at her curiously from the corners of her eyes, considering the way she phrased her request. "O-kay…"

"It's about Delko."

"Oh."

Nat put up her hands in defense, silently asking Calleigh to slow down before making too many assumptions. "It's not what you think, Calleigh. I promise."

"Good," the woman grinned, "because I was thinking you were about to pull me into some outlandish drama."

Natalia laughed and shook her head. "Not at all. Delko and I are over and done with."

"I noticed that," Calleigh said cheekily.

"There are no secrets in this place," Natalia sighed. "Which is exactly why I wanted to talk to you. Eric—he just left here, and…I guess I'm a little worried?" She phrased it like a question, not sure if she knew quite _what_ she felt.

All ears now, Calleigh climbed up on a stool next to her co-worker. "Worried, how?"

"Calleigh, he's upset. _Really_ upset about something. When I asked him, he said it was personal and changed the subject. I figured of all people you'd know what was up. He's not himself."

Calleigh reached down to scratch a spot on her knee and took the time to formulate her response. She'd barely seen Eric all day—now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen him at all—and though she'd heard the news, she hadn't had a chance to talk to him about it.

A pang of guilt hit Calleigh hard in the gut. _Liar_. Her day wasn't so busy she couldn't track down her best friend to see how he was coping. She just didn't know if she could handle an emotional Eric today.

"Horatio and Marisol are getting married," she explained. "They told everyone this morning. The ceremony's this afternoon."

"What?" Natalia gasped. "Just like that?"

"Yep…so I can only imagine what Eric is going through right now," she said quietly, mind whirling, gut still aching.

Valera walked into the lab to hear the tail end of their conversation. "Oh," she exclaimed, "are you guys talking about Eric? You know he's not going to the ceremony? It _is_ a little weird, his boss marrying his sister. But still. Don't you think he should go?"

Calleigh swallowed a gigantic knot in her throat. Eric wasn't going? How could he not go? No matter the circumstances, Mari was his sister and he loved her. Loving someone means being there.

Another sharp pain struck her, this time coursing through her chest, forcing her to take a deep breath. Damn it all.

"You know what, we need to drop this," Calleigh advised, standing up to leave. "I've got a suspect on ice and Wolfe's like a kid at Christmas. Walk me out, Nat?"

The two women exited the lab and finished their talk in lowered voices, eyes darting around and searching for eavesdroppers. Cal led her friend to one side of the hallway for more privacy. "I think you're right to be concerned about Eric, Natalia. I'm caught up in this case right now. You should talk to him."

Natalia's eyes went wide and she bit the corner of her lip. "Me?"

"Yes," the blonde sighed. "I'm too close to this."

"He won't listen to me."

"Make him listen," Calleigh said. She spotted an antsy Ryan Wolfe keeping a lookout for her at the end of the hallway. "I've got to go."

Natalia nodded. "Okay."

"It'll be fine," Calleigh whispered as she turned to leave. "He needs a friend right now."

Moments later, Natalia returned to her perch behind the lab table and resumed her work, her thoughts far from the test results in front of her.

* * *

The perfect opportunity presented itself just before the end of their shift, when Natalia stumbled upon Eric alone in the trace lab.

"Hey, Eric."

"Hey," he answered in a rush. "I gotta run. Can it wait?"

Instead of backing down, Natalia bravely introduced the very touchy subject she wanted to discuss with him. "I heard you're not going to the ceremony today."

As expected, Eric went on the defensive immediately. "Where did you hear that?"

"Everyone…kind of heard."

"Well, everyone needs to mind their business," he stated angrily.

"Well, Marisol could say the same to you," Natalia parried. He needed to understand how much this day would mean to his sister. Nat was married once, and from the incredible start of her relationship with Nick to the heartbreaking day they fell apart, she needed and wanted her family to be there for her and with her.

Eric shook his head. "You haven't been through what I've been through with her. 'Kay?"

"Do you trust her?" Natalia queried softly.

"Yes, of course."

"And I know you trust Horatio with your life. So don't you trust these two to make this decision?

Despite Natalia's sound reason and advice, Eric remained obstinate. "Look, I've been taking care of Marisol ever since she got sick. I don't think she's ready for this."

"But this is not your decision." She wanted to take Delko by the shoulders and shake some sense into him.

"She didn't even invite our family," he declared passionately. "That's not the way we do things!"

"It's her _wedding_ day, Eric. She probably didn't want to hear that speech. Did you think of that?"

Natalia's patience and the kindness in her voice forged the smallest chink in Eric's armor. "No," he admitted.

"She just really wants to be happy. And I know her brother wants that, too."

The woman's penetrating eyes threatened to shake his resolve. "I gotta do the trace on these hundred dollar bills," Eric said, effectively skirting the issue and ending their conversation. For the second time that day, Natalia watched Eric walk away, her mind spinning.

* * *

Eric followed his feet down the hallway. He made a brief pit stop at the evidence locker to stow the cash, then he kept walking. Down the hall, through the heavy metal door of the back exit, down six flights of stairs, toward his car. When he got to his car, he didn't stop, but kept walking. He walked until the sweat beaded on his brow, until his feet hurt in his dress shoes, until he didn't even know where he was anymore.

Then he sat down. Three buses came and went in front of his bench on the unfamiliar corner before Eric made his decision.

He'd been twenty feet away earlier when Natalia pulled Calleigh aside to talk at the Lab. He couldn't hear their words, but he knew what—or rather, whom—the women were discussing. Through the glass walls, he could see Natalia recounting her story. Eric fully expected Calleigh to track him down within ten minutes, but she never came.

Natalia did. Eric walked out of the lab angry at Horatio and Marisol for making rash decisions, angry at himself for not understanding, angry at Natalia for interfering, and furious with Calleigh for _not._

Now, he sat at a bus stop staring at nothing and taking grand stock of things, dealing with a million questions and more emotions than he ever knew he possessed. He finally came to one conclusion: he couldn't miss that ceremony.

Calleigh ignored him today, when Eric needed her the most he probably had in years. She flat-out ignored him, and he didn't know why. He _did_ know it stung not to have her support on a day like today, and if he hurt this badly from something relatively trivial, how much more was he hurting his sister?

Natalia was right; this decision belonged to Marisol. He loved her, and he'd do anything for her, including standing up with her when she married Horatio in less than two hours. Besides, he _would _have a pretty bad-ass brother-in-law…

His decision made, Eric stood and set out for MDPD. He walked ten blocks in the wrong direction before he realized his mistake, but it didn't matter, because the weight he'd been carrying all day was finally gone.

Most of it, at least.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

* * *

Eric sat with his feet dangling over the side of the pool, hands braced against the concrete deck on either side of his body, staring blankly into the water. His mind occupied, he barely noticed the rolled-up cuffs of his pants starting to soak in the chlorinated ripples.

"Maybe if you look hard enough, the water will change colors."

He whipped around at the sudden voice, heart beating like a bass drum in his chest. "God, Cal," he complained as she took a seat beside him and slipped her toes into the water, her own slacks rolled up past her knees. "You scared the hell out of me."

Calleigh offered him an apologetic little smile. "Sorry. Not my intention. I've been here for almost five minutes."

"Doing what, watching me? That's kind of creepy, Cal," Eric said, smiling softly.

"I have my creepy moments…How was the ceremony?"

"Good."

He offered no other details, and she didn't push for any. They sat in silence, enjoying the quiet of the indoor pool they had all to themselves, watching their feet glide to and fro in the water.

"It should have come from you," Eric said abruptly.

Calleigh's eyes darted to his in confusion. "What?"

He looked at her only briefly, returning his gaze to the water with a tired sigh. "I needed you today, but instead of talking to me you sent Natalia. I needed you."

Cal ducked her head, feeling shame burn her cheeks crimson. Eric never admitted straight-out that he needed anyone. For him to do so now…

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked quietly.

"That's a good question. Lots of reasons, I guess. Natalia cares about you, you know. She was worried."

"I know she cares. But we're not talking about Talia, Calleigh."

"Fine, _I _was worried."

"But you couldn't talk to me yourself? You couldn't check on me yourself?"

Calleigh huffed, frustrated. "Why does it matter who came to talk to you, as long as we both knew you were okay?"

"Because it does!" Eric responded heatedly, moving his feet out of the water and pulling himself up to stand on the pool deck. Calleigh followed close behind, and he turned on her. "Because I _wasn't_ okay. I needed to know that _you_ were there. My best friend, not someone I've known for less than a year. Not an ex-girlfriend."

Comprehension dawned on Calleigh in a flash, and she grasped Eric's forearms firmly to force him to listen to her next words. "Eric, I am only going to say this once. We are not going back to the way things were after Speed died. Okay?"

Eric said nothing, unconvinced that they weren't drifting apart again like before.

"C'mere, sit down," Cal said gently, guiding them to sit on the first row of the pool's metal risers. Once there, however, she didn't know what to say. After a long, heavy pause, she tried her best to fumble through her words and, by proxy, her emotions.

"Eric," she began, then stopped and scooted a few inches closer. "Eric—our friendship has never been…by the book. If there's a book."

"Where are you going with this, Calleigh?" he asked, interrupting her.

"Just hear me out, okay? You're my best friend, and I trust you with my life. You know that."

Eric nodded, and she took that as encouragement to continue, softer this time, because she knew she was encroaching on shaky territory. "Sometimes it seems like—no," Calleigh shook her head, trying hard to come up with the right words.

She knew he would understand, because she was certain he'd felt it too, but they never verbalized that part of their relationship. Some voice deep inside her warned that saying the words was not a good idea; even hinting at it could profoundly change their relationship. But Eric deserved some kind of explanation, and she needed to give it to him.

"I don't have any other friends like you, Eric," Calleigh finally blurted out. "You know what I mean?"

Eric nodded silently and slipped his hand into hers, playing with her fingers thoughtfully like it was the most natural thing in the world, like it was nothing. It wasn't 'nothing,' though: that electricity was there, the exact tension Calleigh was attempting so carefully to explain. Or, _not_ explain…

She gave his fingers a tight squeeze and surreptitiously pulled away. "Sometimes it's a little overwhelming," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel Eric's eyes burning a hole in the side of her head, but she couldn't look at him right now, not after confessing something so personal.

Eric did understand. "It's always been like that, huh?"

Cal nodded, and they both sat and turned the thoughts in their heads for a minute before Eric spoke up again. "Do you think…" He stopped himself.

"Do I think, what?" Calleigh urged.

"Ah, I don't know, Cal," he murmured, sounding a little lost. If Calleigh chose not to come to him today because she felt they were crossing some unspoken lines lately—what did that mean for their friendship?

"Cal," he started hesitantly, "I know we share a lot of our lives. We spend all day every day together. You've helped out with Mari a lot, and I'm close to Derek, and we're both godparents to your nephews. I get that. I know we need our space sometimes. But—but I don't want that to mean—I don't want you to feel like…damn it."

Calleigh bit the inside of her cheek and waited patiently. For Eric, a man continually grappling with his emotions and continually trying to hide them, that was a pretty impressive speech. She nearly lost all her composure when Eric looked up at her suddenly, eyes suspiciously wet and entirely open to her.

"Are you afraid of being _too_ close to me?" he asked plainly. His eyes begged her for an honest answer, for _some_ kind of answer.

She balked at first, surprised by his forwardness. "Eric, I…yes, sometimes I am."

The man beside her took a deep breath and replied, "Okay."

"Okay? You're not curious why?"

He shook his head. "No. I understand why. Honestly," he said, seeing the skeptical look on Calleigh's face. "I just…need to know when you feel that way. We have boundaries for a reason, and I want to respect yours."

Cal's heart swelled at his consideration, but she also wondered when this Eric showed up in her life, and why she never noticed. "You're asking me to talk to you about my feelings?" she asked somewhat incredulously.

"Yeah, actually, I am. Because you shut me out sometimes, and I don't like it. Don't tell anyone, though. I have a reputation to protect," he said, rolling his eyes.

Calleigh grinned. "_Right_. Eric Delko, ladies man. Your secret's safe with me."

Their banter broke the tense atmosphere and safely returned them to solid ground. This part of their friendship was easy and seemingly age-old. Nevertheless, Eric still needed to clear the air with his best friend.

"You never answered my question, you know."

Cal shifted uncomfortably next to him on the metal bench. "Which one?"

"Why send Natalia instead of coming to me yourself?"

She couldn't avoid answering this time. "We've spent so much time together over the last couple of months, with Isa and the twins, Mari, Leah and Hayden…I guess…I just felt like this was one line I didn't want to cross with you. I disagreed with your decision not to go to the ceremony, and I didn't know how to tell you that without completely…"

"…inserting yourself in my life?" he supplied for her.

Calleigh had the decency to blush the slightest pink. "Exactly."

Eric smiled. "I don't mind, you know."

"You don't mind what?" she asked, brows crinkled in confusion.

"I don't mind you completely invading my life," he responded with a wink, causing Calleigh to laugh out loud.

"You just gave me the 'boundaries' speech, Delko."

"Yeah, well. I'm always open to negotiating my lines," he said mischievously.

"I'll keep that in mind," Calleigh said, a content smile on her lips.

Half of the halogen lights overhead suddenly switched off with a loud crack, and both Eric and Calleigh searched for their watches.

"We better get out of here," Eric stated. "The pool closes at ten."

"Okay."

Eric bent down to unroll the cuffs of his pants and Calleigh did the same. Four pairs of shoes later, they headed out the door toward the parking lot, where they stopped at the driver's side of Cal's Crossfire.

"Want to come over for a cup of Cubano before you go home?" She felt the need to reach out to him somehow, since she failed so miserably at it earlier today.

Eric graciously turned her down with a slight shake of his head. "No, not tonight. Thanks, though." After a pause, he added, "Calleigh, I'm not mad about this afternoon. Not anymore. You know that, right?"

Her head tilted slightly as she studied his face, looking for the truth. When she found it, she quietly said, "I do now…Are you going to be okay? I mean, with Marisol and Horatio, and your family?"

He let out a deep breath. "I'll have to get used to the idea of my sister being married to my boss, but I think so. I'm glad I went to the ceremony. My family? Mami's going to freak. We'll see."

Calleigh stepped forward and wrapped her fingers around Eric's wrist in a fleeting gesture of support. "Marisol couldn't ask for a better husband, Eric. Your mom will come around."

Eric offered up a weak smile and pulled her into a bear hug. He held on a little bit longer than usual, even though he knew he shouldn't—especially after tonight's conversation—but he needed her comfort. With a swift kiss to the top of her head, he backed away and toward his car.

"Night, Calleigh."

Her green eyes locked on his brown ones, she murmured, 'night,' and then she watched as he walked away.

Calleigh didn't realize she was holding her breath until she sank into the driver's seat and it finally escaped her lungs in a long, furious 'whoosh.' She felt exposed and entirely unsure of…well, of Eric. She always felt unsure when it came to him, she decided, but never so much as she did right now.

Two people who met under the oddest circumstances, who built a friendship on nothing, who meant the world to each other but sometimes forgot to show it—two people like Calleigh and Eric, whose relationship seemed to change and evolve on a daily basis—how could two people stay in control of something so incomprehensible?

Cal leaned forward and dropped her head to the steering wheel. Whether she liked it or not, and whether she understood it or not, a tiny, dangerous part of her relationship with Eric was fighting to break free. Unbidden thoughts danced in her mind more and more frequently as of late. Every now and then she looked at him and couldn't look away. All leading up to today, when she couldn't even talk to him for fear she'd let him in too much.

She knew the signs. She'd been there before, and she'd always clamped down easily on the attraction which sometimes crept into their friendship. He never told her, but Calleigh knew Eric dealt with the same issue from time to time. A natural feeling for any two people who spent so much time together, and definitely not a big deal.

Inhaling deeply and already feeling much better, Calleigh straightened up in her seat and turned the key in the ignition. She meant what she said to Eric earlier, that sometimes their friendship was intense. It was complex and trying and accompanied by a myriad of emotions she didn't have to face in her other relationships.

Backing out of the parking space, Calleigh's mind flashed to a happy memory of Eric and Speedle from years long past, and she smiled serenely to herself. Complex? Yeah, but she wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
